Real Men Wear Skirts

In yet another Scottish tradition, we have dressed Rhys in his brother's kilt and have taken his picture in the same exact place that we did with Nicholas when he was 1 and 2 along Loch Brora.  He's a photogenic little guy.  I just adore the way the photos came out.

This one was marvelous:





But it took a lot of patience, because they started off this way.  The "I'm kind-of-laughing-but-on-the-verge-of-crying" thing that babies often do.  Lack of sleep, teething, and really, really wanting the camera do not help matters.



There was a lot of this:



And this, but Mom was determined:




What saved me though was that I found an interesting tree.  It was right where the grass met the sand alongside of the loch, and it had a root that acted perfectly as a chair.  It also very handily made his buns sink a little lower than his legs, and he could not get up from where he was perched.  Score!  I took advantage of the fact that he couldn't move and hid behind the tree trunk and played peek-a-boo.  He tried his best to remain grumpy, but what 1 year old can resist peek-a-boo?

 

Just stop it already!  Cuteness overload!

*Sigh*

 

I'm free!
(Headed towards the loch)
(Oh and you can see the base of that tree in the background)

 

 

And just for fun I dug up the photos of Nicholas as a 1 and 2 year old wearing his kilt in the same exact place.  He won't humor me and wear a kilt anymore.

Whoa, it is a blustery day!

Plucking buttercups.
Just look at the view.

A good laugh and snuggle for Dada.

More laughter on a typical Scottish day
 (grey, windy, all that's missing is the rain).

And below is Nicholas as a 2 year old with the kilt Rhys was wearing this year.

At Nick's grandparents' before heading out to have his photo taken.
 

A much sunnier day that year.
Beaver stuffed animal in tow.

 

One of my favorites.

Appropriately behind some thistle.

Another favorite, clutching buttercups.

 

 

Yep, that's about right.