We live on the 8th floor. No lawn to run around on, no community pool. We have a great view of the beach, but don’t always get there.
Bring on the kiddie pool! It is a great place to play and cool off. Or soak your feet with a cool beverage. Or destroy play with the garden equipment.
My poor garden. It hasn’t been the same since Yago was born. The pecking order around here is mammals, insects, plants. The kid is thriving, the worm composter is surviving, but the garden has seen better days.
The meshed in balcony is more to save the neighbours from a steady stream of falling toys than for his protection.
He hates the shower but you can dump water on his head all day.
Check out the farmer’s tan on the forearms. Luckily for Yago, he is not as lilly-white and freckled as his Mom. He at least received moderately Spanish skin because his little hands and forearms are getting toasty brown, even with all the sunscreen I slather on.
From the waist down he does resemble his father, more than me. Not sure what he will think of all these nudey photos floating around in cyberspace. Do you think I should start saving for his therapy now?
Nah. Kid looks all right to me.