That's my girl. She's rocking at rock-climbing. This was taken a few weeks back, but I heard that she went even higher today on some wall in Vermont, where she's vacationing with David and her Grandma Pat.

My awesome sister, Jaya, is going to watch Ruby all summer (she arrives next week!). To help keep the girls busy, and because Ruby had been badgering us about this, we signed her up for a summer dance class. Ruby is totally hyped--it starts next week and she's been practising her ballet twirls like crazy.

While many men are superbe ballet dancers, lets be real, the tutu-wearing girlishness of what ballet seemingly represents has sucked Ruby in. So I decided that while I'll put on a happy face at Ruby's delight to dance (which isn't that hard because it's so sweet to see her twirl!), I was also going to find something for her to do that was not so traditionally gendered.

I had noticed a while ago that she loved to climb up a teeny tiny fake rock-climbing wall at a playground we rarely go to, so I suggested we go find a bigger wall. And she said yes, lets try it. There's an awesome rock-climbing place just a few minutes away on the bike from our house. It's right next to the pool that Ruby helped save (heh, real story here).

So we did and she loved it and she'll go once a week, with Jaya, who will get a mini-training and certification so she can properly supervise my little girl as she fearlessly puts herself into moderately safe danger.

I love my fierce woman-child. And I'm learning to trust her instincts at breaking those gender barriers all by herself because Ruby now can show off a mean ballet twirl that ends in a magnificent karate kick.