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: