"Is He a Man of Information?"

Bath, England April 2009

I have always been a huge fan of Jane Austen’s novels. The setting of the old world charm – the art and architecture, fashion and lifestyle of the Victorian period (so-called Renaissance of the British Empire) intrigues my fancy.  The formality of social conduct and the idiosyncrasies, most especially, fascinates me to the point of amusement.

So much so that on a half day trip to Bath, a 2-hour trip west of London, Alfred and I breezed through the Royal Crescent, Roman Bath and Bath Abbey to get the extra time to visit The Jane Austen Center.  It was a real treat to buy her books just as they were published two centuries ago – original texts, cover design, paper type and all!

Anyway, before I make this an article about Jane Austen and the aficionado, the real reason of writing this is to thank Alfred, Daddy of 15-month old Ava and a 5-month unborn baby on this Father’s month of June.  Somehow when I ponder deep on what makes my better half very special to me, the quintessential question of Jane Austen’s heroines “Is he a man of information?” comes into mind.

Like Elizabeth Bennet or Emma Woodhouse, I admire a man of intellect and a great reader of sorts.  I love our quiet times together reading books, with our little girl next to us sound asleep.  I particularly look forward to the spirited exchange of views that follow suit.  For sure, we can get stingy on shopping for clothes but we can easily spend hundreds of dollars on books. 

This is something we both enjoy and not without heaps of benefits too!  When ‘we’ got pregnant with Ava, we scouted good pregnancy books and read them all.  As the old adage goes “Fear is knowing the unknown”, so we armed ourselves with information and did what we knew best.   When I had to go through the physical and emotional discomforts associated with pregnancy, he understood. He knew. 


He was there every step of the way.  We both learned the beauty of natural birth and attended breathing class together.  He made sure we practiced and did my prenatal exercise.  Indeed, he coached me through my 9-hour ‘delirium’ (at 8cm, I was saying things like “the band has stopped playing…”).  When the baby finally came out, he proudly cut her umbilical cord. 

Daddy Alfred with 2-week old Baby Ava

For awhile there, he may have his share of hormonal change too.  His readings have shifted from testosterone-charged navy seals on mission impossible who knows where to progesterone-filled nursing concerns.  From engorged and swollen breasts to proper latch-on, pumping, storing and heating breast milk.  He will never look at breasts the same way again!

With our baby Ava growing well into the toddler stage, who now knows how to challenge and demand, we once again turned to child experts and gather parenting skills that speaks true to what we believe.  When it comes to raising her, we follow where the other one is getting at.  We are literally on the same page.  And this I believe has made Alfred an even better father (and husband).

When Ava turned 1

It is also worthy to note that my father and father-in-law are men of information too.  So I thank all these great men in our lives (me, Ava and baby).  We are truly blessed.  Belated Happy Father’s Day!