Being a parent actually lit the fire to my return to college. I had, like many of my peers, entered a four-year state school upon my high school graduation, but unlike many of my peers, I was not ready. It was when my now 17-year-old son started kindergarten that I was confronted with finishing what I started. He attended a charter school with homerooms named after the college a teacher in that class graduated from, he was in URI. About halfway through kindergarten, he asked me what college I graduated from, and I told him I had not. In typical kindergarten fashion, I was inundated with questions as to why. It was at this moment that I started looking into going back to school part-time; it was not until he was in third grade, three years later, that I actually returned. My local community college offered classes at a time and pace my family could handle; my husband and I worked full time and had two young children. I was going back to college at 39 and was afraid but determined. I took every class seriously, looked to learn something new, and worked with my peers and professors to get the best grades possible. I finished my associate's degree five years later with highest honors, my bachelor's degree summa cum laude three years after that, and I am now working towards my master's (with a 4.0 GPA)! My boys have witnessed me take education seriously, they understand the value I put on improving myself, and know that hard work and support have been key to much of it. It has affected how we look at colleges for that same kindergartener, who is now a senior in high school; searching for what inspires and excites him. My younger son appreciates how we never settle, how there is always an opportunity for more. My husband has recognized there is no stopping me once I have an idea in my mind, especially if it makes me a better version of myself. My last two degrees have allowed me to obtain employment that earns more money, and our family struggles a little less. I have been able to contribute more financially to our futures, retirement specifically, and college for the boys. My master's degree will afford me the opportunity to work within my community and involve my family in that experience. I will continue to develop my network, which in turn has benefited my family in all aspects of our lives. Ultimately, it will allow my husband to take on a less physical job (it is getting tougher as he ages), and provide more stability in our home.

I love baking bread! The process is science, mixed with creativity, and sprinkled with self-care. I learned to love making yeast loaves during the 2020 pandemic. I was working full time and going to school part-time from home while providing distance learning support to my middle schooler. It was spring of 2022 and the idea that this was going to be long-term hadn't crossed our minds. After a month of questioning what else we could do that didn't create clutter or add to our "stuff" piles, we decided to try and make a cinnamon swirl bread my mother-in-law makes. Because we hadn't seen her and my father-in-law for some time, we called them up and talked through the process. It brought a sense of "normal" to an "un-normal" time. The recipe is simple, it is exact and it requires preparation and patience. Everything that spoke to my son and me. Five and a half to six cups of all-purpose flour, like my hair- my bread is finicky on how much flour you need based on humidity. Active yeast that you let bloom in warm water and sugar. That alone tells you it is alive, it blooms during a time that many things were dormant and lacking life. Eggs and butter, milk and sugar, all warmed and added to create the perfect ball! And now, we knead... Kneading is therapy in itself. If you are ever frustrated, as I was from time to time looking at the same four walls and talking to the same three people, kneading bread releases tension and burns calories! After kneading we wait. Much of life requires waiting, but unlike life, you see the fruits of your labor within minutes (35-50 to be exact). At this point, we separate the dough into two mounds, roll it out with a pin and get some more exercise. Once rolled to the desired thickness, we cover it with cinnamon and sugar. The pale dough is now a sweet brown color and ready to roll and fold into baking pans. Lessons learned from making dozen of loaves: too much cinnamon and sugar makes clean-up so much harder too much cinnamon and sugar makes eating so much sweeter too much cinnamon and sugar does not exist! The bread bakes, you clean up the counter and smell your hard work coming to life. You have a sense of accomplishment when the nicely browned crust gives way to the warm, soft, sweet center. You experience a sense of community when you share it with those you love. As I mentioned, since my first two loaves I have made two to three dozen more. I give them as gifts for holidays or to just bring a smile to someone's face. My family and friends look forward to receiving them, and I feel a sense of goodness giving them. My favorite hobby is making bread; my second favorite hobby is giving them.