At the beginning, it was weight that he gained by the pound. But just lately, my boy's been gaining personality by the pound instead.
Every day he's busier, naughtier, more adventurous, more dextrous, funnier, sillier, more purposeful, more communicative and more boyish, with more of his own likes, dislikes and desires.
He climbs on every surface in sight, he runs at life from morning to night, he has an insatiable appetite for fruit, he loves books and horses and tractors, he plays happily for hours in the driver's seat of the car, he brings me his shoes when we've been stuck in the house for too long, he has an unstoppable compulsion to bite, he laughs like a maniac when we spot rabbits in the garden, he says 'tree' and 'apple' and 'baby' and 'pooey', he brings me books to read every time I sit on the sofa, and he works tirelessly at his life's mission to redistribute our belongings throughout the ground floor of the house.
And as we watch his personality flourish and grow before our very eyes, I can't help but feel that it was there all along, and that time is simply stripping away an outer husk that covered it to reveal the person that he was born to be.