He's still only the size of a couch cushion.

The Easter Bunny gave Harry a $10 bill in one of his eggs. Harry didn't know what to make of it-- he actually handed it back to me and told me that the Easter Bunny "forgotted his ticket." We explained the "ticket" was money and he could use it to buy a toy. We went to Target this morning, and Harry bought these:

Barbie Thumbelina dolls (that are a little bit sexy looking and make me glad I don't have girls because I would be a little put off by these dolls if my girls wanted them. But I can let my son buy them and still be progressive. Rock on).

It's been a real bummer of a week in the mommy blogosphere. Two precious blog babies died suddenly this week. Their mothers were both popular bloggers, and news of these deaths has the momblog world a buzz. Some bloggers mobilized and set up memorial post pages and fundraisers and Paypal accounts for the families. Lots of people have written about these tragedies-- some beautifully and some in a creepy way that seems to appropriate someone else's tragedy.

The only reason I'm saying anything here is that these blogs haunt me constantly. When I was in 6th and 7th grade, I went through a weird phase where I read a lot of Reader's Digest condensed books, and I was a big fan of the true-life tales of childhood cancer victims. These stories were usually written by grieving parents, and they always featured a few really stark, mundane details that made cancer all too real and scared the hell out of me. I couldn't get them out of my mind and read and reread them. (Maybe I was depressed).

The two blogs I linked to (okay-- I linked to an article about a blog because the actual blog is down right now) haunt me the same way. If you scroll back a few posts before the tragedies, the bloggers are just writing about normal, funny, mundane mommy moments-- moments that are really macabre in retrospect, but could be entries on anyone's blog were they not followed by unimaginable sadness.

My prayers are with these parents, and I just can't click away.