Students tend to come to college with a post-adolescent self-absorption. They worry about their exams and their relationships and their money. And more often than not in this beer distributer's heaven, where to party next is the burning concern.

But for Melanie Antonio, her first thought when she wakes up in the morning and her last thought before she goes to bed center on something much smaller than herself.

And one would never guess how much goes on between the early morning and the late evening from the way the petite senior shines -- intelligence in her eyes, articulation in her words and animation in her mannerisms. And one would never be able to tell by the energy with which she tackles everything that she is awoken at 6 a.m. every morning by her 8-month-old son, Alexander.

She manages to play with him, in addition to getting both of them fed, bathed and to day care by 8 a.m. After dropping him off, the 22-year-old honors student faces a day typically packed with courses for her mass communications and political science degrees. Between classes she is occupied by her responsibilities to the Undergraduate Student Government Academic Assembly as its representative from the School of Communications.

Later in the day, she picks up her son from day care and takes care of him until he falls asleep around 7 p.m. and then studies until she falls asleep -- usually in front of a football or basketball game.

Antonio dismisses Alexander's father as unimportant to their lives, and under the weight of deciding her future and being responsible for another, she still smiles with a depth of warmth that is rare and surprising from anyone in any situation.

Susan Strohm, assistant professor of communications, said Antonio has one of the best laughs she has ever heard.

"She is one of the most optimistic and positive people I've met in a long time," Strohm said. "She is just an amazing person . . . for all that she's accomplished."

Everything Antonio does receives 100 percent -- or it's not worth doing. But her son is the bottom line in her life. He has tempered her natural drive and determination with compassion and patience.

"(Alexander) is my motivation. I don't know anyone who is up at 6 o'clock everyday to play," Antonio said.

When she gets tired of studying, she thinks of him and stays up the extra hour. To her, better grades mean a better graduate school and a better life for both of them.

Antonio's back-up Lamaze partner, Chris Bryce (graduate-policy analysis), said her experiences with Alexander have made her a more caring person. Before she liked to be in control and was very success-oriented.

Antonio has used her personal experiences and her involvement in Academic Assembly to increase awareness and support for child-care programs at the University.

"I am an example of the struggles in the system," she said, adding that her initiative to stay in school has come solely from herself, family and friends. "Penn State hasn't helped to retain me in this situation."

Antonio spoke of the importance of providing women with more options and said the choice should not be between having the baby and dropping out of school or not having the baby and staying in school.

"No one else would have done it," Bryce said.

Born in Waynesburg and raised in Beallsville, she was and is an irrepressible tomboy, as her mother found out when Antonio was in her fifth-grade class.

"She went outside at recess and asked the girls where I was and they told her that I never played with them," Antonio said laughingly. "She went around the corner and found me playing tackle football in a dress."

To this day, Antonio is still a tomboy at heart, with an abiding passion for football, which is apparently hereditary because her parents have had Penn State season tickets for only two years less than they have had her.

But happiness isn't a result of an easy life -- Antonio's strength of character and passion stem from a childhood struggle that left her older and wiser than a child should be.

Diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease at 12, Antonio had to grow up quickly and face adult decisions. The experience taught her the value of life and every moment, she said.

"If it wasn't for (the illness), I wouldn't have had the strength to have him," she said.

Everyone has to make the transition into adulthood eventually, she added, saying that she just did it sooner.

"I decided I refuse to be a bitter person -- I don't want him to grow up that way," she said with a brief look toward the bedroom where her baby lay sleeping.

And in that split-second gesture was a depth of commitment and love that explained better than a thousand words how and why Antonio can do all that she does.