I feel like I'm not supposed to enjoy parenting. But I do.

When my son was about one, I caught up with some of my university friends who didn't have children but were thinking about it. I was one of the few in our circle with children, so they wanted to hear about my experience of becoming a dad. After listening to me talk about the past year, one of them concluded, "So it sounds like having a kid is net negative but it's still worth it."

Oh, gosh, no. What have I said?

I was enjoying being a father, but all my friends heard was how terrible parenting was. That's when I first realized that as a parent, I felt I was supposed to say everything sucks and I'm really struggling. In fact, complaining about how hard parenting is seems to be the trendy thing to do nowadays if you want likes and shares on Instagram: "You think work is hard. Wait till you are a parent!", "You hate being a parent? Me too!", "Your work ends on Friday? That's when my work starts!"

Parenting is hard, no doubt. I have been struggling, too. But you know what?

I'm also enjoying being a parent.

We are doing a disservice to all parents—and children!—if we only complain about how hard, frustrating, miserable parenting is. Of course, we also shouldn't pretend that it is all rainbow and sunshine every day.

Parenting can be both hard and enjoyable.

If you are not sure about having kids, I hope this gives you a different perspective than what you might hear from your well-intentioned but tired friends with kids.

Yes, I know it's hard

I was hesitant to write this piece because when Nat Eliason wrote that parenting has been easier than he expected, people brought out their pitchforks. They criticized him for not doing enough as a father and spouse. Otherwise, why would he find it easy!

Somehow, you are not supposed to say you enjoy parenting when others don’t.

I think I know where those parents are coming from. I solo-parented my son a lot for the first three years. My wife is an emergency doctor who worked nights and weekends until recently. So I’m usually the one who gets our son ready, brings him to school, feeds him, showers him, and accompanies him to sleep. It’s tough.

When our second kid was about six months old, my wife returned to work. One night when she was on night shift, my baby daughter cried, so I went to pick her up. My son saw me carrying her, and he cried too. Well, I wanted to cry too. Another night, my daughter refused to sleep or settle after waking up around 12 midnight. The last thing I needed was to wake my son up. I was so worked up that my wife had to call me during her night shift to calm me down. In the end, I sat in the dark living room with my daughter for about two hours before she eventually got sleepy.

So, yes, I know parenting is hard. Meltdowns are not fun. Sleep deprivation makes everything seem worse.

But it doesn’t have to be only hard.

The paradoxes

Parenting can be hard, but parenting can also be enjoyable. I can want to be with my kids, and I can also want to be alone. I can be annoyed by some things my wife does (as she would with me) while loving her.

The closest analogies to parenting I can share from my life are triathlons and startups.

I always felt so much pain during my races. Sometimes, all I could think of was "Why am I doing this to myself! Why am I doing this to myself! Why am I doing this to myself!" But at the same time, I enjoyed them. I did triathlons for more than 15 years (before hanging up my bike), and I raced as many as nine times in a single year.

In the four startup years with my cofounder, SK, we launched about 15 products and only one made money. Most days, we were working on things that eventually failed and led to nothing. But we both enjoyed it. How?! I like Paul Graham's explanation: We assume doing what you love means doing what makes you happiest this second, like skiing down a slope in Hokkaido or eating Michelin food. But it should mean doing what makes you happiest over some longer period, like working on hard problems and building products people want. The same can be said for parenting.

Just last month, my kids had HFMD and were stuck at home for 10 days. I struggled. I was tired, I couldn't work, I just wanted time to pass more quickly. But there were moments when I was genuinely happy: When my son ate a rainbow-sprinkle donut and looked like a cat with chocolate whiskers, when my daughter kept giggling as I fed her pumpkin salmon porridge, and when my son made his sister laugh just by saying "meh meh meh meh meh!" I never want to go through HFMD again; I won't even wish HFMD on my worst enemies. But I want to experience those little moments again and again.

I'll admit, though, that I didn't enjoy it at first.

The bond grows slowly

Many years back, I asked a former colleague with two kids about his experience becoming a father. He said it can be hard to describe the joy of having kids. "I didn't know I could love something the moment I saw it" was the way he put it. He explained that he had dated his wife for some time, but he fell in love with his son at first sight.

I thought I'd feel the same. But my son came out with his umbilical cord around his neck and had to be rushed to the NICU. I didn't have that instant connection I thought I'd get—physically or emotionally. Even after everything settled down and for the next few months, I still didn't have as strong a connection with my son as my wife had.

But our bond slowly grew.

After he turned one, we brought him to the zoo and he kept wanting to go again. Every weekend for almost a year, I brought him there myself. My wife was either scheduled to work or had just ended her night shift and I wanted her to rest properly. My dad friends teased me, calling me Superman for doing that because it seemed so tiring, especially doing it alone.

But I loved it. He was still tiny then, so I'd strap him in his carrier and bring him around the zoo to see his favorite animals: pandas, giraffes, and zebras. We would have lunch there, and he would doze off on the taxi ride home without fail. We repeated the same routine and saw the same animals every trip, but he was always so happy, often swinging his short chubby legs and reaching out to the animals from his carrier. We still go to the zoo nowadays, though less often after his sister was born. But he will never be that little boy stuck to my body again. I miss that period already.

Little by little, I got to know him. At times, I even relied on him. When my aunt was dying, I brought him to visit her every day. I can still clearly remember the nights when we walked home from my aunt's place and he was babbling "papa". One night, while I was bathing him, my head was filled with all sorts of sad thoughts. He was just splashing water in his bathtub without a care in the world, which made me smile. I said to him, "I'm so glad I have you."

Now that he is three, he'll casually drop lines that melt my heart: "I want you because I like you", "you are my best friend", "no, I only want papa". Maybe it is emotional blackmail. But by all means, keep it coming.

You will come to enjoy it

This weekend, I’m meeting that university friend again but this time with my entire family. If he asks me again, here’s what I’d say:

Parenting is hard. You will lose a lot of sleep in the first year and question why you even chose to have kids. You will wonder if you can ever catch a breath again. Getting them to sleep through the night, worrying about them falling sick, dealing with their tantrums, you will worry this never ends. At times, you will regret having kids and then feel ashamed that you even had that thought.

But you will get back your sleep, you will catch your breath, you will worry instead that this all ends too soon.

Nothing can take away the struggles and hardship in parenting, especially in the first few years. But in time you will learn to find the small happy moments during the hard periods, and you will learn to tolerate the hard phases. You might even enjoy them.

And it’s okay to say that out loud.

This week’s daily reminders

• Day 36: Some things can't be forced
• Day 37: One of the most important things we can do for our children
• Day 38: In their own time
• Day 39: Don’t forget your why
• Day 40: Your chance to change
• Day 41: What it really means

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