Laura Kelly Fanucci

I finally found his song. It only took a year. When he was first born, in that bleary, dreamlike blur of the early weeks, I sang anything – show tunes, rock songs, church hymns, folk ballads. I had all the time in the world to sing, awake with him through the wee hours. His tiny new…

One has two more teeth, tiny and translucent, poised to cut through his swollen pink gums. Days away from their arrival, I couldn’t be more ready for the crankiness to end and the chomping to begin. The other sports a shiny new backpack, wears it up and down the stairs to get ready for school. Weeks…

Dear you, All 28 years of you, fresh-faced from grad school, ready to take on the world. All 35 extra pounds of you, waddling around with an aching back and a bulging belly. All 37 weeks of you, still counting down days till the due date, still full of wonder and waiting and expectation. You…

In the days leading up to the writing workshop, as I planned and packed (and wasted time worrying about how I would be away from the nursing baby for a week), I envisioned the chance to spend a week writing as a world apart from parenting. No requests for snacks, no cries for milk, no laundry to…

I got to spend the whole week writing. From where I sit now – surrounded by piles of laundry and dirty dishes, worrying about work emails and tomorrow’s to-do list, planning meals and errands and playdates – last week already seems a year ago and a world away. I’m left with lingering memories of my time…

Today is my first day working in my new office. One of the features of our new house that delighted me was a bright, spacious room for an office on the main floor. I’ve been working from home for years, but tucked away in a corner of the basement guest room. Or squeezed onto a…

With gratitude for Fr. James Martin’s inspiration: Dear God, Sometimes I, too, get so frustrated with your church. So much I love, so much I hold as true. But so much I struggle to understand. I look into the bright eyes of my children, so young and trusting. I wonder what questions they will ask…

Looks like it’s been a week since my fingers last tapped in this space. But in between now and then, my hands were busy. Folding clothes into piles, wrapping dishes in newspaper, stuffing car trunks full of load after load of toys and books and boxes and pictures and plants. My knuckles scrubbed a kitchen of cabinets…