That’s my girl … demonstrating her latest and greatest form of awesomeness in her new skates from Santa.
And I’m the one-mom paparazzi following behind her as we circled the block again … and again … and again. Am I disproportionately proud of this pathetic feat of athleticism on my part? Well, yeah. I kind of am. It’s not Ironman, but you’ve got to start somewhere with this post-surgical rehab stuff, right?