Horn Book (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2000)

Pesky Harriet has enough exasperating accidents to try any parent's patience. The book has an effective structure: after the first incident, Harriet's mother reproves her; the reproof grows longer and less gentle as her mother's patience is tested to the limit. The illustrations add much to this cumulative (yet deteriorating) set-up. A most successful team effort that is welcome for its acceptance of both a child's penchant for trouble and a parent's occasional outbursts.

Kirkus Reviews

<p>Fox offers a wry look at the often-tumultuous life of a toddler and her harried mother. Harriet is a typical young child: spilled juice, sticky jam, and broken crockery follow in her wake over the course of an ordinary day. Her mom tries very hard not to yell or get upset; after all, Harriet is always genuinely sorry. Yet, when Harriet's pillow bursts during "quiet" time, so does her mother's temper. In the aftermath of the outburst, mother and daughter apologize and the tale ends on an upbeat note as the two recognize the silliness of their situation and, feather-bedecked, clean up the room. Fox's brief sentences capture the essence of everyday childhood catastrophes, e.g., "At lunch, Harriet slid off her chair and the tablecloth came with her, just like that." Young children can appreciate Harriet's predicament as she unintentionally wreaks havoc everywhere she goes. Fox's sympathetic tale reassures readers that mistakes and angry outbursts do not alter the loving relationship between parent and child. Frazee's lively illustrations sparkle as each of Harriet's little episodes is depicted in humorous detail. Clearly drawn and colorful, they are a witty counterpart to the story. The story, insightful and with ample doses of gentle humor, should prove a soothing balm for exasperated moms and their busy little bees. (Picture book. 3-7)</p>

ALA Booklist (Wed Mar 01 00:00:00 CST 2000)

It's a scenario that nearly every young preschooler--and loving parent--will recognize. Harriet is a pesky kid. She doesn't mean to be (she says), and she's always really sorry after she knocks over her juice, drips paint on the carpet, rips open a feather pillow, and creates mayhem and mess. Her increasingly exasperated mother starts off with affectionate protest (My darling child), but under the sweetness, Mother's anger is rising, until, finally, she yells and yells and yells. Harriet cries, her mother is sorry, and they hug each other and laugh together. As in Hush, Little Baby , Frazee's colored pencil and ink illustrations extend the story with unexpected angles, details, and juxtapositions that will make kids laugh at the mess and look closely at the expressions of temper and affection. What's great here is that as the tension rises and rises, you can't wait for the sweetness to go away, the pent-up anger to be released, and have mother and child be open about their feelings. (Reviewed March 1, 2000)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

"Harriet is what grown-ups refer to as a handful, and her mother handles each incident with good-humored restraint," wrote <EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">PW. "Visually, the book never strikes a false note." Ages 3-7. (<EMPHASIS TYPE=""ITALIC"">May)

School Library Journal

PreS-K-An exaggerated but recognizable domestic drama with an exasperating, trouble-prone heroine at its center. Harriet is always guilty of some minor but messy infraction like spilling juice, dripping paint, or ripping her feather pillow. She is never naughty on purpose, she says. It just happens, and she is always sorry. Her long-suffering mother is never angry on purpose. It just happens and, when she yells, she is sorry, too. Extending the text, which plays on the parallel between provoked mother and fractious child, are the expressive illustrations done in pencil and transparent drawing inks. Their small, upper-middle class, personal world is depicted in telling detail. While Harriet's mischief escalates, readers are assured of a gentle touch by the pastel palette and the soft-edged pictures that bleed out into generous white space. What seems to be missing in this otherwise charming effort is any evidence of effective parenting. When Harriet spills, mom sponges; when she dribbles, mom launders. "Harriet, my darling child. Harriet, you'll drive me wild," is the overwrought mother's oft-repeated but feckless refrain. There never seem to be any real consequences for Harriet's misbehavior. Only in the final illustration do readers see parent and child cleaning up the mess together. This is meant to be a reassuring book, but it fails if one believes that a consistent, firm, fair parent is always more comforting than one who does not seem in control. David Shannon's No, David! (Scholastic, 1998) handles a similar theme with more deftness and humor.-Kate McClelland, Perrot Memorial Library, Greenwich, CT Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.