Doyle Q4 Catch Up

Technically this will include far more than Q4.  I scanned my last post which was so obnoxiously long I lost interest and just tried to take a stab at where I left off on Doyle Documentation.  I had, oh, about 1,000+ photos to scan through on my iPhone and a dismal twenty-something on the "super fancy, mom thinks she is a photographer" camera.  I narrowed it down to a hot 50-ish (insert shocked emoticon face here).  Without further adieu, let's try and package up the rest of this year with a half-witty bow so we can do a better job in 2016 of tracking the always on a plane, soon to be grounded, ever expanding Doyle crew: 

Dairymens! This trip deserves an entire post to itself, but we're going to sum up this family summer vacation extravaganza which includes about 40+ Doyle/Gallagher's in a few measly photos.  If you head back to August on my Instagram feed you can fill yourself with all the midwestern family vacation photos you could ever dream of.

The Cousins 

Roasting s'mores on Captain Hook's Island

Lodge Life

Just a nice shallow cruise for Mr. Safety 

Beersbie Training.  Every Mid Westerner's hope for their toddler.

Palmer's first fish!

4 John Boats + Adult Fishing + Stiff Drink = 4:00 appointment (EVERYDAY)
Let's be honest - the parents live for this.

Tripp turned 1! We had a party at home and then another at Dairymen's a few days later with the whole family.  His birthday falling on Dairymen's week could potentially be money.  Celebrating with that crew every year would be quite spectacular.  

Fall Happened.  As a parent, it infinitely eased my workday.  Cooler weather.  Festivals galore.  Add in piles of leaves to throw oneself into and you've got a kick ass season!

 

We went to Florida a few times to indulge in our favorite friends, family and activities.  And then our friends returned the favor and joined us in Georgia for a little Southern Soiree.

Dinners with the gang never disappoint.  We miss them all so much and can't get enough when we get back.

Doing what he does

Nothing beats Poppa's house

Not even this.  Although this doesn't suck.

Welcome to tropical landscape Tripp Martin.

Blending right in with the Florida scenery

Even got to swim back in our old pool at Bay Hill.
Our friends bought our house and spending time their was extra special.

And here is the crew looking dapper in Georgia 

Every garden party dream came true

Milton's Cuisine & Cocktails delivered again

We did a family trip to Lake Blue Ridge.  Which was our first vacation that only included a short car ride.  That was rather magical.  Although an enormous amount of restraint is required when one has the ability to pack an entire car for vacation instead of two duffel bags.  

The house was great.  The dock was better.  The 120' deep waters really threw us.
Who knew Georgia had no natural lakes?!

Palmer blended right in with the locals.

Pete and I had some kid-less, hangover worthy travel.  The time alone is an unbeatable recharge.  We couldn't be more thankful for my mom and my niece for taking such good care of the babes while we spend time being husband and wife.  My mantra for life as a parent is, "Your kids will never remember your weekends away, but you and your husband will."    So just do it.  

What more quality time could you ask for than this?
(Laguna Beach, CA)

Ok maybe this.
(Laguna Beach, CA)

And this.  We obviously dominate the elevator selfie.  Which really means I realize 5 seconds before
we are about to get where we are going we never had took a proper picture.
(Greenville, SC)

A photo by someone else! Christmas Miracle of Miracles!
(Greenville, SC)

And another!  Could this really be happening?!
(Colorado Springs, CO)

Cue the fuzzy selfies.  Maybe we shouldn't cocktail prior to snap-a-lapping those selfies
(Colorado Springs, CO)

Grainy and too close.  The only way our kids will remember us.
(London, England)

Jet lagged like a motha' but sporting a stylish chapeaux.  Only thing that will do is cappuccino.
Buckets of it.

Sometimes other people take crappy photos of us, too
(London, England)

And that folks is what you call proof that I'm a horrible historian.  When all you can find of your travel are some random selfies you know you've failed.  2016 will include a more concerted effort to document our travel aside from our up close and personal mugs.  I mean, I really failed in London.  Really, really failed.  But there was so much sleep to be had and croissants to eat.

Next up, Palmer turned 3.  We had been to a really fabulous party at our local fire station earlier in the year.  Palmer loved it and I totally thought, I'm stealing this idea.  And then I thought, really all Palmer wants is uninterrupted time with the truck and the hose.  And all I really want is to not spend a whole weekend planning a toddler party.  What if I spare myself and give the man what he really wants!  A private fire station tour.  BINGO!

Had all the time he wanted to press every button and ensure the next house to catch fire in Milton was going to burn down because the firefighters would never be able to get it working right.

Just manningthat firehouse

Batman was the theme back at home.  Grammy delivered on her gift with the stellar capes.

When you're 3 year old wants a fire hose for his birthday.  Panic ensues.  Then Amazon Prime delivers.

Before the man turned 3 he had his first go at being a ring-bearer in Chicago.  Despite this no-nap-induced tantrum next to his dazzling cousin, he made it happily down the aisle to promptly be tossed in the car to pass out, in oh, about 30 seconds.  It was a beautiful wedding, or so I heard.

Mr. G, our trusty sidekick through thick and thin.

Halloween happened.  We stopped at two houses, Palmer had two things of candy and stated, "Enough of this driving around, let's go home and eat our loot!"  So we did.  And that folks is how you ENJOY Halloween:)

Just, ew.

There was some good old regular life thrown in the mix, too.

Nature Pal Exchange.  Do it. Go on Instagram and find it.  This was our haul from TX.

The fire pit was completed and is a total hit.  Or pain in the butt if you're Pete Doyle and have to chop wood non stop to keep up with the number of fires these boys like to have.

The Art Barn.  If you follow me on Snap Chat (Heather Rae Doyle)  you witnessed the outpouring of love Palmer bestowed upon these defenseless farm animals.

Best thing about the barn is for a small fee...

And last, but most certainly not least, small town dreams were made.

The photographer, Marchet Butler, showed her skills by photo-shopping her way to 4 smiling faces.

And if you didn't get a Christmas Card from our clan this year, you're looking at the photos right here.
These two munchkins rock.

Crossroad of Photo Dumping & Over Sharing

Somehow it has been almost 4 months since I've documented Doyle life. For shame, for shame. We are escaping to Florida for 4th of July (leaving 60-something-degree mornings for 100-degree round the clock days). Somebody head check us. These tiny humans are clouding our better judgement. But Florida brings friends, family, pools, golf and Sea World. All things 4th of July dreams are made of. Even if you'd rather be enjoying said things naked. Or as Palmer likes to say, "Full Nake." That is also his status post-bath as he runs around the house at turbo speed so learned our new babysitter. For memories sake (and to give my phone storage a much needed reprieve), here are the past 16 week highlights.  

We threw a block party! It was to kick off Spring.  But more to have cocktails with neighbors while children ran through the streets like heathens.  It was what I would consider a success.  Neighbors came.  People cocktail-ed.  Kids ran amuck.  Nailed it.

Palmer welcoming his guests

Littles en route.

Ahh..nothing like a couple folding tables and chairs and some dollar store decorations to really bring folks together

And then there was the Ritz.  In Laguna.  Without children.  Ya know how with your first baby you sob uncontrollably as you pull away from the house?  Well with two in tow, I blare Jay-Z with the windows down while sipping a roadie en route to the airport.  3 hours early.  

I mean.  C'mon.

Crop tops and elevator selfies.  It's what middle aged parental vacations are all about these days.

Easter!  Jesus rose from the grave, but all Palmer wanted to do was color eggs and eat sugar cookies.  Glory be to holiday seasons that bring hours of activities for toddler hands. 

Senor OCD made sure no eggs mixed colors

Nothing says our Savior has risen like frosted and sprinkled bunny cookies

And then this happened.  Worth all $19.95 thank you very much.

Thankfully we redeemed our Easter photogenic-ness at Easter brunch

Those boys <3

Then Tripper got baptized!  We went back to Bay Hill to keep with tradition.  Palmer was baptized there and the same Priest was able to do Tripp's service.  He also is the same man that married Peter and I.  I wish I could write about the week of festivities and how much fun it was.  But with 3 ear infections to kick off the trip, I will leave it to the pictures to portray a false sense of spectacular-ness and say how awful it was to deal with my children wonderful it was to see family.

Back to golf cart life

Fishing off the docks

Palmer surely disgruntled about it being too sunny or the wind mussing his hair

Tripp's Godparents Pat & Theresa

Next up, we scored courtside tickets to a Hawks game.  Wow are those men big.  And wow are you really close when you're sitting on the court.  Every girls dream to sit face to crotch with a 7 foot basketball player while beads of perspiration are flung in your direction.  THAT is date night material. 

My cell phone nor does the tv give men of this height any justice

Oh, Avalon.  How you treat us so well.  Every Tuesday they throw a mess of toys out on the lawn with a performer of some sort, a craft and some face painting.  Lunch follows.  Ba-da-bing, Ba-da-boom.  Cruise into nap time comas.

At home, we have been sans Gra-Gra while she "summers" in New Hampshire.  We've gotten into a groove, but sure do miss her! The boys have a lot of new tricks to show her when she gets home.  But she is no stranger to all the summer nakedness that occurs.  I wonder what it's like for her to live her days without looking at twigs and berries bouncing about all over the house. Climbing on her.  Demanding to be pinched.  Must leave her feeling a bit empty. 

$10 water feature = ohhh...at least 10 minutes of entertainment.  $1 a minute? Not bad.

Waterfall picnics keeping us in tune with nature

A mans work is never done.  

Yep.

Target delivered just the setting to lure these boys into outdoor eating.  The only way to dine this summer.
Nothing like setting a tale for a toddler and a baby at 8 am.  Is that the definition of a backfire?
I kid.  It's romantic for me ,too

Fishing for leaves.  Swampy, bug infested leaves.  In our pajamas.  

My then 9 month old who decided to walk and do everything Palmer does.
Except he is a far superior climber than Palmer ever dreamed of being.

Palmer's first official golf lesson.  My heart couldn't have swelled any larger.

And his last day of gymnastics.  He officially forward rolls like an Olympian. 

Ugh, I'm sick of typing, you must be sick of reading (but secretly happy I have 20 minutes of juice on my DVR of Bachelorette already.) 

Milton's Cuisine & Cocktails hosted another outdoor soiree. This was an official crawfish boil with music, cocktails, corn hole.  All things a good southerner should expect at a garden party.

Tables.  Garden.  You get it.

Saved the best for last for anyone still here.  Pete and I hosted a house show starring Pilgrim.  They are a romantic, whimsical couple from Nashville who are letting go of life's expectations and traveling around in an airstream to share their music across America.  They have a darling 3 year old little girl in tow and make it look effortless to just pack up a family of three and play music wherever they are called.  Check out their music, it's addicting.  www.pilgrim.life or you can find them here on Facebook and Instagram.

Our backyard slopes up.  A scattering of mexican blankets, bowls of peanuts and voila instant amphitheatre.

 Here's a little diddy from the show: