My adventures with Mr. Brown.
My father, who had grown up on a farm, used to talk about his family’s killing a pig for the tamales, but this was back in the twenties.
A Dallas company’s virtual child care.
MY EIGHT-YEAR-OLD SON is named after a town in Texas. His given name was Daniel Streeter Phillips. When he was born, my wife, Debra, and I broke out the map of Texas and our finger kind of stopped at Streeter. It was actually going to be his middle name, but
When the young daughter of a friend walked sooner than my son, my feminist politics collided with my loyalties as a mom.
Time-honored Texas rituals.
With a mother in one city and a father in another, Audrey Reynolds took to the air.
My Mad Dog days behind me, I’ve found contentment with young jackanapes at my feet and the girl of my dreams beside me.
Barbara Bush remembers the life of the daughter she lost 35 years ago.
Why did my daughter’s favorite stuffed animal seem strangely familiar?
If you think you in-laws are tough, try Wynne-ing your way into this clan.
There he was in his high chair, drinking lemonade-flavored mineral water and watching LA Law.
Tommy Cutler is not just a custodian of family property, he’s a custodian of family history.
Thanks to the sacrifice of two strangers, we have the child we’ve always dreamed of.
Four Texas families take you home for dinner. Pass the chocolate-cream pie, please.
An agnostic parent is forced to face one of life’s biggest questions.
Cradle Cap was nothing, diaper rash was a breeze. But when my son brought home head lice—well, it made the plague look good.
When the wife goes back to work and the husband takes on chores and children, the real problem is not laundry or lunch boxes. It’s the battle between love and ambition.
Of course parents do everything they can to protect their children. But at some point they must learn to let go.
When the time comes for the last child in the family to relinquish her tattered baby blanket, she’s not the only one who’s a little shaky about it.
The failed ambitions of the father become the triumphs of the son, or so most fathers would hope.
I took my son fishing because I wanted him to love the sport—and me.
Every son sees his father as his greatest competitor—until the day he becomes a father himself.