A few days ago, I posted on BlueSky about coming home late from the office. Johnny, still awake, wanted to play a game he’d made up. The rules were simple: we’d run after each other, and the first to touch the other would win. Then the winner would chase, and we’d start all over again.

I wrote about how, even though I sometimes complain about not having enough personal time—there are days when I don’t even get a minute of silence—I’m enjoying this phase of life so much that I don’t want it to end. I don’t want this era to fade because, as I said, “there’s no economy in positive emotions.” (Pardon the rough translation from Greek.)

That spontaneous remark stayed with me. It made me realize how, as adults, we often are economical with our emotions. When was the last time you felt and expressed unfiltered excitement, overwhelming love, or laughed so hard it hurt? When did you last hug someone so tightly or kiss their forehead with a sense of transferring every ounce of your positive energy to them?

We don’t often do these things. Instead, we show love in muted, restrained ways. For the people we care about—our spouse, family, friends—we make subtle gestures: cooking a nice meal, giving them some personal time, buying a thoughtful gift, or saying, “Let’s go for a run/drink,” even when we’d rather not. These acts matter, of course, but they’re calibrated, contained. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps this is how adult relationships are “supposed” to function. Or maybe it’s about maintaining an image of control, even if it’s not one I particularly admire.

With kids, though, it’s different. There’s no economy in positive feelings. There’s no subtlety, no restraint in expressing love, affection, or care. Around them, I feel like a different person—a person who has unlocked emotions I didn’t know existed and learned how to express them fully.

Maybe this intensity is nature’s way of balancing out the immense hard work of raising children. Because let’s be honest: it’s hard. It’s life-altering, in both positive and challenging ways. But on balance, it’s worth it. I’d do it all over again—not because it’s easy, but because these unrestrained, honest emotions are what make it all so profoundly meaningful.

I just wanted to write this down; not to romanticize it, but to capture these feelings so I can come back to them on the hard days. Because there will be hard days. And on those days, reading this will remind me why I treasure this time, why it’s worth every challenge, and why I don’t want this era to end.

This is part of a series of entries titled Fatherhood Diaries where I record thoughts on life as a new dad. Click here for all the Fatherhood Diaries.