Well, as I got older and watched friends being able to do whatever they wanted. At the time, I wore corduroy pants and pumas while my friends were all wearing stone washed 501 jeans and Reebok high top sneakers. Very materialistic, but my intentions were different. As a fat kid, my thighs always rubbed together and I hated the "VPP! VPP! VPP!" sound they made when I walked. While friends would ask their parents for $$$ to go to McD's in high school, I was lucky to be able to buy a cheeseburger at school. Most times I went to school and stayed hungry all day, then I would eat when I got home.
Anyhow, all of this made me somewhat resentful of my mom for a time. I couldn't understand why she insisted on keeping us in poverty, just because she wanted to be home to raise her kids. Of course, now as an adult, I look back and understand her intentions, if not the best, she was doing the best she knew how. Growing up on state assistance also made something in me snap. I had NO interest in making my kids grow up the same way.
Really lovely story. Your mom was a heroine. Absolutely no shame or judgement for her or women like her who loved their kids so much.