Stacie Sherman

Journalist, Author, Blogger

Category: family

  • April Rains

    April Rains

    Autism consumes us, so much so that when non-autism trauma happens in our lives, it throws us. It pushes us to the very edge of our sanity. I haven’t written in a while, but I knew April was coming. I pledged I would write every day in April, as I have done in the past.…

  • The Ties That Bind

    The Ties That Bind

    I had my ex-husband and his wife over the other night for wine, beer and charcuterie. This doesn’t happen often. In fact, it was the first time. But it was needed and healing. And a bit unreal. Our anxious adult son, who was working at the time, kept texting my ex to ask if everything…

  • The missing piece

    The missing piece

    What makes me love him so much, is not only that I’m lucky to have him. It’s that he feels lucky to have me.

  • Where It Began

    Where It Began

    I’m trying to write more. It’s been too long. I’ve had a lot of new followers and made a lot of new friends over the years. So I’m going to reintroduce myself. My name is Stacie, I am a lifelong New Jersey girl. I have been a journalist for more than 30 years. I’ve mostly…

  • A Never-Ending Anxiety Attack

    A Never-Ending Anxiety Attack

    Acknowledging my inevitable mortality was the first step. Planning for her life after my life is no easy task. We are on a waiting list for residential care. I want that care to be in place before I die.

  • Restaurant Etiquette

    Restaurant Etiquette

    I’m kind of an expert in non-verbal communication. I can tell what my daughter wants without one word spoken. I can tell by her noises or gestures whether she wants to go to bed, or wants a drink or some ice cream, or needs help with her DVD player. I’m usually grateful to have such…

  • Counting the Ways

    How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach. (Elizabeth Barrett Browning.) I love you every second, every minute, every hour. Your laugh is the sound that paints a smile on my face. Your smile is the sight that warms and…

  • Cherished Moments

    Cherished Moments

    My life as an autism mama consists of not enough sleep, a lot of cleaning and cooking, some anxiety drugs and an occasional glass of wine or vodka/club.  From time to time it includes tantrums, screaming, middle-of-the-night awakenings. It is what it is. I can’t imagine it any other way. Because it also includes love and laughter, hugs and…

  • Wallowing Time

    Wallowing Time

    I often say writing is my therapy. God I hope this blog post does the trick. Three times yesterday, I found tears running down my face while at my desk. Once, I started hyperventilating. I’m sure my colleagues saw. I pretended they didn’t. I’m overwhelmed. The weight of the world sits on my shoulders. Usually I’m a master…

  • One Word

    When I started this blog, I promised myself that every time I wrote, I would be painfully honest with my readers and with myself. That even though I am an editor for a living, I would present the unedited version of my life. As Mother’s Day approaches, I write this to force myself to stop and…

  • Just as Amazing

    My first-born asked me the other day why I didn’t write about him like I wrote about my daughter. I had no good answer. Maybe I thought he would be embarrassed. Maybe I was trying to protect him from this cruel world. He is just as special, just as inspiring, just as amazing. And he, too, faces…

  • A morning without noise

    This Autism Awareness Day, my  beautiful Brielle is at her dad’s house, so I get a morning to sleep in. Of course I’m up at 7 a.m. So with a cup of coffee, I get to sit in my quiet kitchen and reflect upon my life as an autism mama. Moments like this are rare. I…

  • The Last Word

    Whenever I pick up a newspaper, one of the first sections I always turn to is the obituaries. It sounds morbid, I know, but it’s so much more than that. Back in my college journalism class so many years ago, one of our first assignments was writing obituaries. I learned an important lesson then, that I…

  • My Bittersweet Birthday

    I turn 42 today. That’s the age I’ve been dreading for as long as I can remember. When I allow myself to think about it, as I force myself to do now, the reality of it makes my hands shake, takes my breath away. Here I am, the same age my mother was when she…

  • Here Comes The Hate Mail

    Here we go. I’m putting it all out there. Once and for all, I’m going to try to explain why I don’t vaccinate my child. I’m prepared for the hate mail. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called names while talking about this subject. Bring it. But before you prepare your hate-filled response, I…