Noah has never been a kid for picture-taking. He has never been one of those that folds his hands in his lap and cheeses at the camera until momma says, "Ok! Stop already!"
Nah. He mostly just completely ignored the camera from day one. Now that he is older, he usually does whatever he can to get out of the picture we are trying to take. This generally results in him running circles around me and me spinning around trying to snap a decent shot.
You should also know that haircuts are traumatic events in our house. When Noah was 5 months old, I gave him his first haircut. He had that much hair. For that haircut, he just stoically watched in the mirror as the machine buzzed over his head. I had high hopes.
But, alas. That was just for the first haircut. Every haircut since then involves roof-raising screams, kicks, squirms--whatever can be done to escape. We generally have him on a stool with his back against my chest, and Rey kneels in front of him holding his hands and legs as still as possible. We all end up coated in hair--Noah most of all, since all of his antics make him work up a sweat.
It's no wonder I cut his hair so short. Means the time between haircuts is longer!
So, it was haircut time at the old ranch. Everything went as normal, except that Noah's haircut turned out even shorter than I'd expected.
He always looks so handsome right after his haircut, so I wanted to take some pictures (a day later, so the memory of the trauma had faded...).
Noah had so much fun trying to evade the camera, and what resulted were some snapshots that captured many of Noah's expressions and his love for keeping momma on her toes.