Life has been lifing in ways I did not put on my vision board.

The past few months have felt like a whole emotional obstacle course — the kind where you’re running, tripping, crying, laughing, and somehow still holding a cup of coffee that you refuse to spill because you deserve that coffee.

The hardest part was losing my dog. That kind of grief hits in waves — quiet ones, loud ones, the ones that sneak up on you when you see an old toy under the couch. There’s no manual for that kind of heartbreak. You just learn to breathe around it.

And then, because life has a sense of humor, we ended up with a new dog. A hound. A sweet, dramatic, anxiety‑ridden hound who acts like the world is ending if I walk to the mailbox without him. He’s basically a furry emotional support siren. But he’s ours, and he’s slowly stitching up a part of my heart I thought would stay torn forever.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, I passed my real estate exam — which felt like climbing a mountain with a backpack full of bricks and self‑doubt. I was so proud… until I learned how much money I need for all the fees, memberships, MLS access, fingerprints, background checks, and whatever else they decide to charge me for. At this point I’m convinced they invoice you for breathing near a brokerage.

But I’m still moving forward. Still building. Still choosing myself. And when life gets overwhelming, I do what I always do: I go to the kitchen.

Which brings me to the hero of this blog post — the thing that has been comforting me when nothing else makes sense:

Leftover Doughnuts Bread Pudding.

Because when life feels chaotic, turning stale doughnuts into something warm and sweet feels like proof that anything can be transformed.

🍩 Leftover Doughnuts Bread Pudding

Ingredients

• 6–8 leftover doughnuts (glazed, cake, filled — whatever’s dying on your counter)

• 4 large eggs

• 1 ¾ cups milk (or half‑and‑half for extra richness)

• ¼ cup heavy cream (optional but recommended)

• ⅓ cup sugar or sugar substitute

• 1 tbsp vanilla extract

• 1 tsp cinnamon

• Pinch of salt

• Optional: berries, nuts, chocolate chips

• Optional toppings: sugar‑free caramel, whipped cream, powdered sweetener

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 350°F and butter a baking dish.

2. Chop doughnuts into chunks and toss them in the dish.

3. Whisk eggs, milk, cream, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, and salt.

4. Pour custard over doughnuts and gently press down so they soak it up.

5. Let sit 10 minutes.

6. Bake 35–45 minutes, until golden and set but still soft.

7. Serve warm and let it heal whatever part of your soul needs it.

Life doesn’t always give you neat chapters. Sometimes everything hits at once — the grief, the wins, the bills, the new responsibilities, the unexpected healing. But I’m learning to take it all as it comes. To let the hard moments be hard, to let the good moments be loud, and to let the kitchen be the place where I put myself back together.

And honestly, the funniest part of this whole recipe is that these doughnuts are from the doughnut recipe I think I posted a few months ago. At least I hope I did. If not… surprise, you’re getting the sequel before the original. Very on brand for my life right now.

I don’t have everything figured out yet — not the real estate fees, not the anxious hound, not the next step in this new chapter. But I’m here. I’m moving. I’m rebuilding. And I’m finding comfort in small things, like turning old doughnuts into something warm and sweet when the world feels a little too sharp.

If you’re in a season of transition too, consider this your reminder: you don’t have to have it all together. Just find one soft thing to hold onto. One little joy. One recipe that makes you breathe a little easier.

And if that joy happens to be made from stale doughnuts you may or may not have posted the recipe for… welcome to the club.