MOM SCHOOL

An imaginative, ponytailed girl compares what she learns at school to what she believes her mother learned at Mom School.

“When I go to school, I learn how to cut and glue paper, count to 100, and sing silly songs. My mom says she went to school, too.” So begins this title, in which the young narrator shares what she thinks happens at a school for mothers. The page turn reveals a group of ethnically diverse, backpack-toting women, many with coffee mugs, heading into a multistory brick school. There, the students learn how to juggle various tasks, such as shopping for groceries while not losing sight of the kids, talking on the phone while fixing a daughter’s hair, and making dinner while listening to a child’s new song. Other lessons include how to properly tuck a child into bed, read stories, bait a fishhook, and pump a bicycle tire; all are betrayed with gentle comic effect in Burris’ digitally painted illustrations. Readers will be pleased to recognize such activities as building a fort out of couch cushions and decorating cupcakes, but these kidcentric lessons follow a pretty drawn-out exploration of a single joke. The conclusion replicates that found in many other books: “she says her favorite job, her best job, her most important job is…being my mom.”

Stories glorifying mothers abound; this well-intentioned but rather bland one does not distinguish itself.