The Girl is Mine

I’m starting my whole life over. I am trying to be a patient, sensitive mother, and sometimes, that doesn’t go so well. I am tired of hearing complaints! Except mine,…

My baby, my first born, has breast buds. She is four months shy of her 8th birthday. I do what I always do when I’m not sure what to do:…

A black comedian riffs on the subject of parenthood on BET’s late-night laughfest, ComicView: “You wanna know the difference between black parents and white parents?” he begins. “In public, white…

Thanksgiving in Vegas: my resolution to have fun before the end of 2005 which is hands-down the worst year of my life. And Vegas does not disappoint. With dancing, decadence,…

Home: I think this is the place. But ever since my mother died, I keep saying “Jacksonville” when I mean “Pittsburgh” (though, interestingly, never the other way around). At any…

Like my mother, the man is in his early 50s. And like my mother, he looks about a decade younger. He’s neatly dressed and unassuming. His slight smile suggests shyness…

A few years ago, I read a wonderful essay by Anne Lamott about the ugly, dull side of parenting that no one tells you about before you have kids. Before…

I am redeemed. I am the dutiful daughter carrying out her mother’s wishes — from scratching an itch she can’t reach to bringing barbecue ribs to her hospice room in…

Four months and three weeks ago . . . I left my mother’s house angry and flew back from Jacksonville to Pittsburgh angry. Angry at my mother for not taking…

I have two college degrees, and yet here I am, crawling around sponging milk up off the floor like some sycophant maitre d’ at a fancy French restaurant indulging a…

Interviewer: Ms. Thomas, thanks for being with us tonight. Deesha Philyaw Thomas: Oh, my pleasure. Int: Your daughter Peyton’s novel, The Blackest Rose, has spent six consecutive months on The…