This is a day late. Because I'm having to type this on my phone, and yesterday was a rough day here with 3/5 of us being sick.  Anywho, onto this handsome fella  Oliver Flynn, you are 9 months and one day old today.  You are a rolling machine, and we find you under chairs all of the time.  You sit up like a champ, and you're trying to crawl.  You say "buh," shake your head "no," and still charm us with your squeals and chuckles and spit-throwing raspberries.  You have an infectious grin that has us all grinning with you.  You nuzzle and give "kisses," the wet, open-mouth slobbery-kind. You have zero teeth still, but there are some definite bumps happening in your bottom gums.  You tried a few Cheerios the other day, and you didn't hate them. No solids so far (other than the few spoonfuls of applesauce I let you try about a month ago). Your pincer grasp isn't quite there yet. I'll let you try a few mor...