Enough

She thought she had it all and she did.

The first four years it was exactly what she thought it was going to be. The huge white mansion, the elegant fine furniture, the big yard and roses every Saturday morning.

Then the babies came and that wasn't easy. Caesarian births, sick children, but if only the cars had not gone south, or perhaps if they had stuck it out -- there were so many reasons to change, to sell, to move.

And suddenly she was no long the adored daughter living just around the corner, no longer the gorgeous red haired stylish beauty living in luxury. She was living in a two bedroom house with three children, all sick with a major problem and a husband working as a grad assistant.

His world revolved around the university now. Hers revolved around cooking, cleaning, ironing, changing diapers and talking to toddlers.

She would never again have enough. Enough house. Enough clothes. Enough food budget. Enough style. Enough money.

It's hard to know your mother never starved by old world standards, but she never had enough of anything to be happy or satisfied from the time you were three on.