Post Holiday Post Football Blogging Resumes

The editors apologize for the lack of updates, but the holidays were just too much to write about. Don't misunderstand - they were great, Henry and Dad and Mom had a great holiday season, and Henry is enjoying his abundance of new toys. The problem is that there is simply too much to try to capture. The effort involved in trying to write a post that will meet expectations and sum up the entire experience was giving me heartburn, and in putting it off, I've been derelict in my blog-updating duties.

So, I'm going to skip it. Hopefully it suffices to say that the holidays were great; now we'll move on.

Most years, the post-holiday season in Pittsburgh means one thing - playoff football! You may have heard that our team, the Pittsburgh Steelers just won their sixth Lombardi Trophy, merely proving what we already knew to be true: the Pittsburgh Steelers are the most successful franchise in the NFL.

Henry watched most of the games with Mom and Dad, and the Beres grandparents G-Pap and Lulu/Mimi (still working on her name, but that's a whole different subject). During the post-season, Henry would learn to be a little wary of Steelers' touchdowns, as the whole room would break into cheers and yells.

Henry watching the Super Bowl pregame. (You can tell it's the pregame because he's not wearing his Steelers jersey. A very strict tradition in the Culbertson House is that jerseys are ONLY worn during the game. They go on at kickoff and come off when the game ends (or in special circumstances, after the celebration (see: Super Bowl, winning a Sixth)). This helps preserve the power of the jersey.)

...and that, Henry, is why he was the Defensive Player of the Year!

Halftime! Henry refused to wear his 3-D glasses.

After the win, with just a few of our vast selection of Terrible Towels.

After winning an NFL-record sixth National Championship - and can I tell you how good it feels just to type that? - it was time to hit the streets for a little bit of celebration, where our meticulously detailed Lombardi Trophy was a hit:

Us with few hundred of our new close friends

A Day at the Museum

Who knew? September 27th was National Museum Day, and the Carnegie Museums participated. Total Culbertson family savings: 30 bucks! That's practically a case of beer (Dad buys expensive beer).

It was our first opportunity to see the recently redone dinosaur exhibit. Not only is it really beautiful, its as educational (museums educational? - news at 11:00!) as you want it to be: if you just want to walk through and look at the reconstructed skeletons, you'll be happy. On the other hand, if you have the time and inclination to use the interactive exhibits, you'll be rewarded with a great deal of pretty cool information. Henry is on the far side of the first category (and Mom might have an even shorter attention span), so I didn't get to dig very deep, but I did get to watch one cool little video about how paleontologist use the shape of the bones in the legs to figure out the gait. It would be cool to go back and spend some time exploring.

Henry, mildly amused

One of the coolest things about the refurb is how well it uses the space. The exhibit butts up against the Carnegie Library, and the windows of the library offer an unobstructed view onto the exhibit.

For the record, Henry made it through about half the museum - but that's still better than Mom usually does.

Mom, Dad, and Henry

Henry's Diverse Smiles

Hello, is this thing on?

Sorry, again, for the lack of updates. I'm sure our millions (billions?) of fans have been checking daily, sometimes hourly, for updates, and I'm sorry to have let you all down. My excuse? I'm lazy.

Anyways, just a short update.

The internet says that babies often have distinct smiles for the different people in their lives, and Henry is no different. Though they are similar, he has developed subtly different smiles for his Mom and his Dad. We've been lucky enough to capture some examples.

This is a picture of Henry's special smile for his mom:

And this is a picture of the special smile Henry seen only by his dad:

The differences are so subtle that I think even regular readers might have trouble telling them apart, so here are two more examples.

Mom's special smile:

The special smile Henry saves for Dad:

Weekends and Other Special Moments

Mornings always seem to be Henry's best time. Given how much and how well Henry sleeps, we can't really complain, but if pressed, we might admit that perhaps he's a little fussy during the afternoons and evenings. However, he usually wakes up in a pretty good mood, and you can get a good hour or so of awake and alert time. Mom fills me in every day regarding his daily progress on the first big milestone: smiling. He's starting to get the hang of it, but going to work means that I don't usually get to experience these sunny moments.

Of course Henry and I spend time together during the week, but I'm usually tired before I even leave for work; by the time I get back I'm pretty exhausted. In addition to my tiredness, Henry's usually lost his good mood by the time I get home - possibly because his Mother beats him all day while I'm at work.

Weekends are different, though; they are special. Henry and I usually get up a little earlier than Mom, which lets Mom catch up on some much needed rest. We spend our time on a variety of activities - we play on his playmat, we walk around, Henry sits on my lap and we hold hands and talk. I love this time with him, even if it does only last for an hour or two.

After that, we usually take a little nap. Repeat readers will recognize the foreshadowing; another picture of Henry asleep on Dad's chest is coming. This one, however, features a little something for the ladies.

Sorry ladies, I'm taken.

Our other special bonding involves calm-down time. When Henry gets really upset, it seems that the only thing that will calm him down is to slip out back, where we dance and sing on the patio. Like any baby, Henry responds to bouncing, and loves to be sung to, but it's no secret that in the Culbertson household, Dad does it the best. I do have a couple nursery rhymes, courtesy of my mom, but those secret weapons are used only in the most dire of circumstances (e.g. after a 4:30 a.m. feeding, when Henry isn't really interested in going back to sleep, but Mom and Dad can't really think of anything but).

Why it's necessary for us to go in the back probably depends on who you're asking. If you ask Henry, he'd probably say "bob booboo glag" - because he's a baby. What he would mean, of course, is that the change in scenery, especially the warm air is necessary to get him out of the crying mood. Dad knows that the real reason we hide is so that the whole world doesn't laugh and point at the spectacle; not only is Dad gyrating like a madman in order to provide the rhythmic bouncing Henry needs, but Dad is also practically a human beatbox - the beeps, doo-dahs, clicks, and lalalas coming out of him are beautiful music to Henry's ears.