The few precious hours between an outside-the-home working mother's arrival at her child's side and that child's bedtime are viewed through an idealized lens; the effect--either loving or hopelessly sentimentalized--will depend on the outlook of adults who open this book for lap-sharing. The rhythmic text meant to soothe seems forced and stilted; the repeated use of the phrase ""dear child"" distances the words unnecessarily. Muted pastel illustrations conjure an era from the past: The mother's old-fashioned rosiness, hairstyle, and dress are WWII or earlier, reminding readers that ""working"" mothers are not a novelty. As mother and child share both boisterous and quiet activities, culminating in peaceful slumber, the well-tended house and the gentle admonishment to put the blocks away are elements that may reflect how mothers would like to envision their day, rather than what really transpires.