Horn Book (Sat Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)

The eldest of three siblings (each a different race) adopted by a lesbian couple recalls an idyllic childhood. The heavy-handed message is that same-sex parents are just like everybody else, but what real family is this perfect? The nostalgic adult tone and dearth of actual plot severely limit the child appeal of this well-intentioned story played out in Polacco's recognizable illustrations.

ALA Booklist (Fri May 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)

The oldest of three adopted children recalls her childhood with mothers Marmee and Meema, as they raised their African American daughter, Asian American son, and Caucasian daughter in a lively, supportive neighborhood. Filled with recollections of family holidays, rituals, and special moments, each memory reveals loving insight. At a school mother-daughter tea, for instance, the mothers make their first ever appearance in dresses. The narrator recalls, "My heart still skips a beat when I think of the two of them trying so hard to please us." Only a crabby neighbor keeps her children away from their family. Meema explains, "She's afraid of what she cannot understand: she doesn't understand us." The energetic illustrations in pencil and marker, though perhaps not as well-rendered as in some previous works, teem with family activities and neighborhood festivity. Quieter moments radiate the love the mothers feel for their children and for each other. Similar in spirit to the author's Chicken Sunday, this portrait of a loving family celebrates differences, too. Pair this with Arnold Adoff's Black Is Brown Is Tan (2002), Toyomi Igus' Two Mrs. Gibsons (1996), or Natasha Wing's Jalapeno Bagels (1996) for portraits of family diversity.

School Library Journal (Fri May 01 00:00:00 CDT 2009)

Gr 1-4 This gem of a book illustrates how love makes a family, even if it's not a traditional one. The narrator, a black girl, describes how her two Caucasian mothers, Marmee and Meema, adopted her, her Asian brother, and her red-headed sister. She tells about the wonderful times they have growing up in Berkeley, CA. With their large extended family and friends, they celebrate Halloween with homemade costumes, build a tree house, organize a neighborhood block party, and host a mother-daughter tea party. The narrator continually reinforces the affectionate feelings among her mothers and siblings, and the illustrations depict numerous scenes of smiling people having a grand time. Most of the neighbors are supportive, except for one woman who tells Marmee and Meema, "I don't appreciate what you two are." Eventually, the children grow up, marry heterosexual spouses, and return home to visit their aged parents with their own children. Is this an idealized vision of a how a gay couple can be accepted by their family and community? Absolutely. But the story serves as a model of inclusiveness for children who have same-sex parents, as well as for children who may have questions about a "different" family in their neighborhood. A lovely book that can help youngsters better understand their world. Martha Simpson, Stratford Library Association, CT

Kirkus Reviews

The placement of the title's possessive apostrophe here is no typo: Two mothers own this house, and they have filled it with lots of love. Unfortunately, while this ambitious picture book seeks to offer an inclusive vision of family, it ultimately comes up short. Meema and Marmee's eldest daughter offers a sweeping narrative about three children embraced by their loving, interracial, adoptive family and multicultural community, with their "mothers' house" at the center of it all. It is outside of this safe haven that the children face overt and neatly contained homophobia in the character of one bad apple, who declares, "I don't appreciate what you two are!" The distillation of hate into a single character undermines the reality of systematic oppression faced by same-sex couples; furthermore, the flash-forward narration depicting each child grown and married into heterosexual, monoracial unions ironically presents this family as an anomaly. There is a desperate need for books that present queer families as just another part of the American quilt, but this title, despite its obvious good intentions, doesn't do it. (Picture book. 6-8)