Confessions of a wish I were a stay at home mom

I wish I were a stay at home mom.  I imagine all the things my son and now new baby on the way (december 2013) would benefit from by having their mother with them.  I imagine the trips to the park, the crafts I could do (I guess I’d have to learn how to craft) and the relationship I would have with them.  I imagine how clean my house would be, how happy my dog would be.  That I would have plants that don’t always look like they are one day without water away from never coming back.  I imagine the dinners that I could make if I had more time than the hour I do have from when I get home to when in theory we should be eating.  In this imaginary world my weekends aren’t all anticipation, gleeful exitedness and dreadful misery come Sunday afternoon.
But there is always another side
I think about how much less money we would have and how much more difficult just about everything would be.
I think about my personal accomplishments and how I wish that just being a mother is enough for me but when it comes down to it I know it isn’t. 
I think about the vacations I love to love and that I wouldn’t be able to go on them.
And I think about the fact that when I was on maternity leave I had nothing else to talk about besides the baby.  My husband would come home and all I had was the baby, no work stuff, no friend stuff no did you hear about this on the news stuff.  It was all color of his poop and how much milk he drank and that I didn’t notice until my husband pointed out that I was a shell of my former self and that getting back out there would be good for me. 
I think that for all the stay at home mom’s they in part wish they were working and that all the working mom’s wish they could stay at home.  It is an endless viscious cycle of wanting what we cannot have.