I Respectfully Disagree: Why My Picture Book Highlights a Parent’s Mental Health

I recently got feedback from a hybrid publisher on my picture book. I reached out because I was exploring offset printing options, but instead of discussing logistics, they critiqued the story:

“You’ve chosen a complex and important topic, and there’s a lot of power in the metaphor of a cloud. But because the story is told from the mom’s perspective—and the cloud only affects her—it may not engage kids ages 4–7. The cloud with only Mom also sends the wrong message.”

Their final advice?

My reaction? I respectfully disagree.

I’m sharing this because—hey—every press, even the bad kind, is still press, right?

Let me re-share what the heart of this book really is….

What missed the mark:

I’m not frustrated by the advice to re-write — I am frustrated by the suggestion that children can’t engage with emotional depth unless it’s about them.

I am fired up by the idea that centering a parent’s mental health is seen as a “mistake” instead of a message.

Because that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? We treat sadness like something to hide. Mom puts on a brave face, & we make feelings taboo. We encourage ourselves *&others) to “just cheer up,” as if the goal is constant sunshine. But emotions don’t disappear on command. Sometimes they just need space, patience, & love while they pass.

why “It’s Not About the Kids” Is Exactly the Point

We so often tell kids they’re the center of the story in almost every way & that’s wonderful.

We want them to see themselves reflected in stories full of joy, curiosity, & courage. But sometimes, real life isn’t about them. & sometimes, stories are full of other emotions, other truths- & they matter just as much.

Sometimes Mom has a cloud.
Sometimes Dad is quiet.
Sometimes love looks like playing nearby—not fixing it, not being the focus—just holding space.

We need more children’s books that show this kind of love: the kind that’s patient, present, & real. Kids can learn that when someone they love is sad or tired, it’s okay. They can still play, still imagine, still include that person in small, gentle ways. That’s empathy in action.

I’ve seen plenty of SEL books where a child’s point of view says, “My mom is grumpy… tired… not the same.”
But almost none let Mom name her own feelings.
& that’s exactly the silence I wanted to break.

I’ve also read books with POVs of animals, trucks, crayons, & even rocks. So why is a mother’s emotional world somehow too distant to understand?

Being told that a parent’s point of view “isn’t important” or “won’t interest kids”? That one stung.

My story challenges the market norm

The story centers on a parent’s emotional journey while honoring the child’s presence. The children are there—they offer to help “chase away the cloud,” but Mom gently reminds them to play (be kids!) & that she needs time to rest. They remain nearby, the heartbeats of the story, showing that love stays even when moods shift.

My four-year-old gets it. (hell she wrote some of it)

She knows when I have a cloud.
She knows she can invite me to play—& if I say, “Not right now,” that it’s not her fault. It’s just a feeling passing through. (Insert her “frozen” line)

That’s emotional literacy. That’s what I want this book to teach.

What the Story Really Teaches

Feelings, like clouds, are real, valid, & always passing.

The book gently teaches that sadness (or any “cloudy” feeling) is part of being human — something we experience, not something to fix or fear. It reassures both kids & adults that love, connection, & patience help us weather hard days.

💛 For Children

• Emotions are natural & visible: The cloud gives kids a clear, non-scary metaphor for sadness.
• Empathy over responsibility: It shows that while they can support someone who’s sad, they’re not responsible for making that person feel better.
• Play and imagination as healing tools: The children use creativity & laughter as ways to connect—not to erase the sadness, but to share light within it.
• Hope: Even when things feel heavy, the sun returns.

💬 For Parents & Caregivers

• Validation: It honors the ups & downs of parenthood mental health without shame.
• Modeling healthy coping: It shows parents that being honest about struggles can actually teach connection.
• Conversation tools: The “Guide for Families” bridges story to real-world reflection, helping families talk about emotions together.

What Therapists Had to Say

Here’s what mental health professionals shared after reading Mom’s Cloud and the Beach Adventure:

“What strikes me most is how the story doesn’t make the children responsible for ‘fixing’ Mom. They offer love and connection, but the cloud moves on its own time. That’s such an important, healthy message.”

“It feels like a hug: honest, not sugarcoated, but profoundly reassuring.”

“The warmth just radiates off the page. Dad is supportive and present (‘It’s okay to not be okay’). The kids—Alma and Max—are playfully persistent without being burdened.”

“This is deeply personal but universally accessible. The discussion guide and resources at the end show you’re not just telling a story—you’re opening a door for families to talk about mental health with young children in a way that’s honest, not scary.”

Stories That Hold Space

I’m not claiming my book is perfect.

But I am saying this:
We need stories that hold space for parents & for children.

Based on current publishing trends, only about 10-15% of picture books are narrated directly by a parent.

Within that group, only two-thirds feature nurturing, reassuring roles- while the rest are humorous.

Books that feature both a child & parent making up duel voices are 5-10%, blending experiences.

Stories, like mine, can remind families:

• You can love someone who’s sad.
• You can play near someone who’s resting.
• You can be patient, connected, & kind — without fixing everything.

It can be a book for resonating with many audiences, exploring everyday family life.

So, the editor who said kids wouldn’t care?
My kid cares. & that’s enough proof for me.