Sprout certainly gets around. Up and down the eastern seaboard, into meetings on 42nd floor suites with Japanese executives, to hipster-laced music studios to pharmaceutical companies, kicking away while Mama's feet ache in her fancy heels.

Today, he got to rest while Mama talked on the phone to England, California and Boston, and then kicked through a cab ride, a subway trip and a decaf ice coffee break with the lovely and creative Miss Haena.

After all his showing off, he went quietly to sleep at the doctor's office, wiggled slightly during the sonogram, was cool on amniotic fluid, and proved that he knows which direction is out (i think it's all my headstands, Papa thinks he's just smart). So, it's feet in my diaphragm. Ouch!