I’ve seen a full solar eclipse at the Arctic Circle. I’ve swam with reef sharks in the Galapagos. But if you ask me what the two most memorable moments in my life are, I would say without hesitation, it is the births of my two little girls.
Fatherhood is without a doubt the most impactful, compelling, and downright satisfying adventure that I’ve embarked on. That’s not to say it’s been easy. It’s also been the most challenging, upsetting, and occasionally soul crushing experience as well. But here’s the thing. The highs and lows are kind of the point.
Whenever people ask me what it’s like to have kids, I start with two simple questions. What’s the happiest moment of your life? And what’s the saddest? Now take both of those feelings, and multiply them by 10 in both directions. That’s what being a parent feels like. It magnifies all the good AND the bad of what life has to offer. Sure, crossing a huge goal off your bucket list feels amazing. But it doesn’t compare to the feeling of watching my 3 year old figure out how to balance on her bike for the first time. And yes, getting laid off from a job is incredibly discouraging. But that despair isn’t close to the feeling of helplessness when you’re waiting in an ER to find out why your newborn is spitting up blood.
I’m no philosopher, but my personal belief is that a fundamental part of living life is about having experiences. But, in order to truly appreciate a life well lived, you need to have both good and bad experiences. After all, if your life is just one continuous string of awesomeness, then what’s the point? The human brain is a very powerful instrument. It constantly adapts and adjusts. Eventually, that experience you thought was so awesome last year will feel “meh”, and you’ll have to chase the next awesome experience to be happy. But there is no such thing as absolute happiness. Rather, happiness is the delta between the sad and the happy moments that occur in your life. And the bigger the delta, the more impactful those moments of happiness truly are.
Which is not to say that everyone should have kids. That’s a personal choice that everyone should make on their own. Many people live amazing lives without the added stress and responsibility of trying to turn a tiny human into a productive member of society. Because let’s be honest, a lot of times, being a parent totally sucks. But it’s that feeling you get from the highest of highs that make the lowest of lows almost worth it. Because for me, that’s where true happiness lies. In the delta.
A recent exchange between me and my eldest daughter.
Daddy: “Audrey, where’s your jacket?”
Audrey: “It’s in the car.”
Daddy: “It’s going to be chilly in the restaurant. Are you sure you don’t want it?”
Audrey: “No, it’s too puffy.”
Daddy: “C’mon, Audrey, I don’t want you to be cold in the restaurant”
Audrey: “I won’t be cold! I’m warm!”
Daddy: “Okay, fine, but no whining if you’re cold later.”
Audrey: “I woooon’t!!” [Side Note: Only a 5 year old could turn won’t into a three syllable word]
[Fast Forward to 15 minutes later after everyone’s food has arrived]
Audrey: “I’m cold!”
Daddy: “I told you to bring your jacket.”
Audrey: “But I’m cold! I have goosebumps!”
Daddy: “Well I can’t get your jacket now. We’re eating dinner.”
Audrey: “But I’m cold!”
So what is a father to do in this situation? It certainly feels like a teachable moment. You know, some sort of lesson about the consequences of not listening to your father when he tells you to do something. And yet, here’s the resolution to this story.
My earliest memories of Las Vegas are not of the neon lights or the mellifluous chimes of slot machines. No, when I think about Vegas, the first thing that comes to mind is the Midway at Circus Circus. The Midway is a 2nd floor space overlooking the casino, filled with a variety of carnival games where kids can try their luck to win stuffed animals. During our family’s annual trips to Vegas, my parents would always give me and my sisters $20 each, and tell us to hang out at the Midway for a few hours [Side note: if that sounds like absentee parenting, what can I say? It was the 80’s.] The Midway served as both a babysitter and nemesis for much of my childhood. Although no game was outright rigged, they always had a “trick” to them that would make something that looked so simple (“It’s easy. Just knock the three milk bottles off the platform!”) an exercise in patience, perseverance, and money management.
Don’t let the friendly clown fool you. The Midway is designed to take your money
I’ve had more than a few squandered trips where I left the Midway $20 poorer, with nothing to show for it, except for a tiny stuffed pencil I “won” from one of those games where “Children under 8 win a prize every time!” But over time, I honed my carnival game skills like I was qualifying for an Olympic sport. I began to understand the nuances of the more challenging games. Even though, I couldn’t guarantee a win every time, there were a few of the tougher games that I could consistently beat within a few tries.
My favorite of these games is called Roll Down. The object of the game is simple. Roll 6 rubber balls (one at a time) down a ramp towards slots numbered from 1 to 6. If you score less than 12 or more than 29 with those 6 balls, you win. What’s the catch? There’s two 3 point slots, two 4 point slots, and only a single 1 point slot and 6 point slot. Most players end up getting point totals in the middle, unable to get the high or low score needed to win. But after a lot of experimentation, I figured out the trick to winning this game with relative consistency.
On my most recent trip to Vegas, I decided to visit the Midway and try my luck again. The first thing I noticed was the inflation. For the past two decades, Roll Down had only cost 50 cents. The closest thing to a bargain in all of Vegas. But now, a single game of Roll Down would set me back two bucks. Undaunted, I swiped my play card, and gave it a shot. It took about eight tries, but lo and behold, muscle memory kicked in, and I won one of the the giant teddy bears hanging on the wall! The perfect gift for my little girls.
Carnival games got nothing on Proud Asian Dad
But here’s the thing I forgot. When you have two kiddos, it’s never enough to bring back one surprise gift from a trip. Asking my kids to “share” a teddy bear is a surefire recipe for torn off bear limbs and tears all around. Unfortunately, Roll Down also has a pretty strict “One prize per player per day” rule. I was scheduled to fly home the next day, so I left the Midway, wondering how I would solve this dilemma.
The next morning, I decided I had only one course of action. My flight departed at noon and the Midway opened at 10am. That gave me a solid 30 minutes or so to win a second bear before I had to catch my flight. No problem for a Roll Down expert like me, right? I grabbed all my bags, and took an Uber over to the Midway. Lugging my bags behind me, I made my way to Roll Down, loaded my play card with $20, and sat down to play. I don’t know if it was the time pressure, or the pressure of coming home with just one bear, but my 10 tries resulted in exactly zero teddy bears. Checking my watch, I saw that I had about 5 minutes left before I really needed to head to the airport. So I added $10 more to my play card, knowing I had 5 more tries to win a second bear. The first four tries were fairly uneventful, with only one game that was even close to winning. I checked my watch again and knew that it was time to go. This was it. The last game. I began to roll.
The first roll was a clean 6. A great start! The second, an ugly 3, which left me with 9 after two balls. I took a deep breath, stared down the numbers, and dropped in two straight 6’s, giving me 21 points after 4 balls. But my shaking hands betrayed me on my fifth roll and the ball dropped into the 3 slot, leaving me with a 24 after 5 balls. This was it. I needed a 6, or I would lose. I looked at the lone 6 point slot, blinked hard, and let go of the ball. It bounced back and forth between the 6 and the 1, taunting and teasing me for what felt like hours. But eventually, the ball settled into the 6 slot. 30 points! I let out a whoop that far exceeded the joy most players probably showed after winning a prize. I quickly grabbed the bear from the attendant, and raced to the airport.
You might ask if all this stress, money and time was worth it. After all, once I factor in all the costs, “winning” these two bears cost me roughly $80. But all it took was seeing the look of joy on my daughters’ faces when I brought home the two bears to realize that money, and a little carnival game luck, really can buy happiness. And can you really put a price on that?
Proud Asian Dad 