Mum’s Busy Work was inspired by juggling motherhood with running the country. What does a frazzled working mother and her preschooler make of it?
As I lay next to her at some ungodly hour one recent morning, in between bouts of kicking me in the stomach and pulling my hair, my three-year-old asked me to sing her a “Mum’s Busy Work song”. That’s how I know Jacinda Ardern’s new picture book has really made an impact – my kid makes 4am demands for impromptu musical compositions based on it.
We’d been reading it at bedtime for the past few nights, alongside two books about underpants – a current fixation stemming from recent success in toilet training. Relatability is important, which is why, I guess, she likes Mum’s Busy Work. “Today I got out of bed and asked Mum what day it was,” begins the book, narrated from the perspective of the kid, who is based, of course, on Ardern’s daughter Neve. “‘Monday,’ she said. I asked if that was a daycare day. She said yes. I stomped my feet. I didn’t want to go to daycare. Mum said that she didn’t always feel like going to work either.”
Just like us! Although in our case it’s not so much feet stomping as full-noise, body-thrashing tantrums, and I wouldn’t bother mentioning not feeling like going to work because I know she gives zero fucks. There are a few unrealistic moments like that in Mum’s Busy Work. “I had fun at daycare,” reads the second page. “We made unicorns. I don’t know if Mum had a fun day. She looked really tired when she got home.” Come on. Preschoolers are the most self-centred people in the universe. I could be bleeding out from a significant head wound and my daughter would care only if it directly impacted my ability to immediately cater to her every whim. She definitely does not notice if (when) I look tired – and to be fair, I doubt there’s been a moment when I haven’t looked tired since the day she was born.
Mum’s Busy Work, the latest in a Jacinda Ardern publicity onslaught following the memoir and the movie, follows a week in the Neve character’s life: there’s the pre-daycare strop on Monday, Mum leaving the house before she wakes up on Tuesday, Mum walking her to daycare on Wednesday, and so on and so forth. Then, on Sunday, Mum brings out “Mum’s Busy Work”, the name Neve has given her “big, giant briefcase”. The book concludes with Monday coming back around again, and Neve’s feet-stomping turning into a dancing session with her mum and her “clippy-cloppy” shoes, which are a recurring motif.
And you know what, the book is fine. Really rather sweet, I guess – and obviously it’s struck a chord with my kid. But as many parents will know, reading to children, while important, can get pretty tedious, so you really start to appreciate the good books. As Eirlys Hunter wrote for The Spinoff back in 2021, “A good picture book text is bloody difficult to write. Their few words should read like poetry, paying attention to rhythm, assonance, sibilance and all the other language techniques. There must be a story, a reason for turning to the next page. But not a word too many, and each one should roll around the tongue and be a pleasure to say.”
Mum’s Busy Work is not terrible, not at all, but it’s definitely not one of the rare gems. The lines are not pleasurable to say – even after reading the damn thing about a hundred times, I still stumbled over some of them. I also couldn’t help but notice a lack of consistency in tense use and at least one typo (“I asked Mum if it was day care day today” – where’s the “a”?). Having said that, I’ve read much worse lines in any number of random picture books picked out by my child from the library, and Mum’s Busy Work does have the benefit of being beautifully illustrated by Ruby Jones, best known for her “This is your home and you should have been safe here” illustration in response to the Christchurch mosque attacks. My child loves the pictures, poring over every tiny detail – “Her pyjamas have hearts on!” “She’s got a yellow cup of tea!”
Jacinda Ardern walks up the steps of parliament with husband Clarke Gayford and their daughter Neve after the proclamation of accession ceremony to acknowledge King Charles III as the king of New Zealand in September 2022 (Photo: Fiona Goodall/Getty Images)
As for the concept, I’m in two minds. The guilty working mum trope is trite, but there is truth at its core. There’s nothing groundbreaking in these pages – it could’ve been written in the 90s, really – and the manosphere-dwelling turn-Arderners would have to look pretty hard to find any red flags as far as woke feminist indoctrination goes. While acknowledging that our “unconventional” household status probably gives me an unrealistically optimistic view of how far families have progressed, I found the nod to Dad doing the laundry a little laboured and cringe, to be honest. In 2025, is that really out of the ordinary? Depressingly, maybe it is.
As historian Katie Pickles noted in a recent piece on the book for The Conversation, “there is a hint of conservatism in Ardern’s insistence on labelling herself a ‘mum’ as well as a professional politician”. Mum’s Busy Work finishes with Neve – who had earlier suggested that her mum’s job was eating chocolate, before being told it was actually “looking after people” – saying she knows what her mum’s job really is. “It’s dancing with me… reading with me… playing with me… It’s loving me.” I mean, sure, same, but it almost feels apologetic for having a life outside motherhood.
“This book is based on the words and lessons taught to me by my daughter, Neve, while I was prime minister of New Zealand,” reads Ardern’s end note. “May every child know that no matter what, they are our life’s greatest work.” Maybe I’m just too cynical, maybe it was added for the American market – there is a “Mom’s Busy Work”, of course – but I can’t read that last line without my eyes rolling so far back into my skull they may never return.
But you know what, maybe none of that matters, because my kid loves it. Oh, as for the song request? Sometimes “Mum’s Busy Work” is pretending to be asleep.
Mum’s Busy Work (Penguin Random House NZ, $30) is available from Unity Books.