It was Wednesday night at home and, within just minutes of getting home, we were already bickering, this time about what to eat - or not eat - for dinner.
I'd worked late Tuesday so I didn't see my family much, and I'd been looking forward all work day Wednesday to family time, when we could all be together again.
It was not going as imagined.
So I left.
For just a second. I went and got the mail. Took a breath.
We started over.
I made dinner (just pancakes, ha, don't judge - it was easy and everyone was happy, which was really the only goal at that point).
Afterward, Ray and Millie stayed behind to eat some more while Lola and I went to have some fun and work on some gymnastics skills.
First, we stretched. I've been trying to get Lola to become a wee bit more limber but she hates stretching ("It's boring!") so we made it into a reading game, too, working on spelling and letter sounds.
Soon, we moved onto somersaults and headstands.
And then handstands.
We did push-ups, wheelbarrows and bridges.
We were laughing, playing together, sharing, talking, just enjoying each one another's company.
So it wasn't surprising when Millie toddled on in to join us.
Millie dove right in, tickling and chasing us around, soon doing her own somersaults. It was hysterical.
Ray eventually joined in as well and the whole family played together for about an hour, the adults chasing after kids who were chasing after the dog, who was chasing after the cat, who was simply trying to hide for all of us.
One of the nice thing about having two kids is we easily pair off - one adult working with one kid for a while until one daughter tires of one adult and then we switch. Over and over again.
By the end, Lola and I had developed a new way of working on some of her gymnastics skills. I'd kneel and she'd run at me, jumping toward me and I tossed her high up into the air. She thought it was a game, trying to freeze her body as her feet returned to the ground.
In between Lola's turns, Millie would run over to play as well, so I would "throw" her up too (but not release), and she'd think she was playing like a big girl too, and she'd laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh.
I was sweating, my arms hurt.
My cheeks hurt from laughing.
We soon quieted things down, reading books and getting kids ready for bed.
But it was a great night, one of those special nights you just don't want to forget, but you also don't want to grab a camera for, in fear of altering the energy or taking yourself out of the fun.
These are the moments I don't want to forget.
These are the days, weeks, months I don't want to forget.