Kirkus
Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

After Baby sloth takes a tumble, he notices the nighttime life around him while waiting for his mama to retrieve him. Baby sloth loves snuggling close with his mother up high in the trees as the moon looms overhead. But when he falls from the tree, he’s frightened. To calm and distract him as she makes her way down to get him, Mama points out the night’s beautiful sights: bright yellow flowers, wriggling pink worms, and brilliant blue moths. When Mama and Baby sloth are together again at last, all the colors erupt together, a symbolic celebration of the sloths’ love and reunion. Brian Cronin expertly plays with shadow and light, the moon a guiding light. The shadowy, complex darkness results in a backdrop perfectly paired with the splashy hues of the night life. Even Mama herself blends into the trees and darkness, while Baby’s peachy fur and pink nose draw readers’ eye and focus. For much of the book, Mama is obscured from readers, just as she is from Baby after his fall. For such concise writing, the book has many layers of story, which means that there’s plenty for readers of all ages to take from its pages. A sweet, compelling tale of mother-child love. (Picture book. 2-5) Copyright © Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Publishers Weekly
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Baby Sloth loves sleeping nestled high up in a tree “between/ his mama/ and the moon.” When he tumbles to the ground, the tangerine-hued puffball lands in “a soft patch” of foliage, but he’s nevertheless beyond forlorn in the inky darkness. Regarding the silhouetted, tangled vegetation around him with wide, anxious eyes, he feels “far away from home./ Far away from Mama.” His mother quickly assures that she’s coming to the rescue, but a series of panels depicting the sloth’s glacially paced descent suggest that her arrival is likely to take a while. In response to her son’s repeated calls of “Are you close now, Mama?” she tells Baby to focus on the details around him. Collaborators the Cronins (Lawrence & Sophia) show how the smell of yellow flowers, the sound of pink worms wriggling in fallen leaves, and the feel of blue moths fluttering all seem to light up the darkness by dint of the little sloth’s budding powers of observation-as-self-regulation. By the time Mama’s long arm extends lovingly into the frame, Baby has proved a little wiser, a lot calmer—and fully worthy of emulation. Ages 2–5. (Apr.)