My constant conundrum

I collect illustrated books. My grandma is great about supplying me with the old ones. When we were moving into our house, I was putting my books onto our shelves and out fell this loose leaf page from on old Dick and Jane book. I found it so hilarious and a bit haunting that I stuck it on the fridge and there it has hung ever since. I don't know why it struck me like it did but the words "Here I come" instantly had two different meanings for me. First, (read this with a tone of hope and excitement:) "Here I come (exclamation point)" - like, "Wow - isn't she amazing? If only I could be like that!" and then second, (read this with a tone of dread:) "Here I come" like "Whoa, watch out or you'll become just like her. That would stink." Now, I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with being a "house wife" or "stay-at-home-Mom" (I am one) - it includes the two most important things in my life - being a wife and being a mother. It's just those labels have stigmas and that's not all I want to be - some dolled up chick who mops her floors all day while she shoos the kids out to play and rushes to put on lipstick before her husband walks in the door. I want to also learn things and do things and create things. But I also aspire to having a spic-and-span organized home and happy, well adjusted children and I find myself being caught between all those things and trying to balance not becoming lopsided either way.
So anyway, some days I look at this on my fridge with hope and some days I look at it with dread. I just hope that some day I can find a happy medium between the two.