Hi everyone! It’s Lannis, friend of the The Mrs and local captcha heckler. The Mrs was kind enough to bully me into a guest post share her lovely space with me! Thanks, Mrs! I’m honoured!
A little about me: I’m a stay-at-home-mom who has voted herself unemployable does book reviews for PostWhatever.com, indulges in plenty of geekery, and does a little home day care on the side (something’s got to pay for the online shopping, right?).
While debating potential topics for this post, I got a little distracted... not by the dishes or the laundry or the plethora of Legos and Froot Loops littering my living room floor (I’m a semi-finalist for 2010’s Worst Housewife, by the way--hence The Mrs pegged me for a guest post... our styles are obviously very different). No, I was distracted by the marble run.
My guilty pleasure is the marble run.
We purchased it for Christmas one year because our two boys were too old for baby toys and yet too young for the popular culture kids’ toy trends (Transformers, you boogers, I owe you at least one aneurism! Ages 5 and up, my tuchus! Whoever designs those things lies--you definitely need a PhD to transform that garbage!).
Anyhow. Where was I? Marble run, yes: it was a perfect educational blend of building, creativity, and cause-and-effect. All bright colours and snug-fitting construction, and the best part: no batteries required! I jumped on it.
Of course, it’s debatable who has more fun with this marble run: the boys, or the mom.
Mr. Lannis has declared himself less-than-engineer material, and gives up on elaborate structures rather easily. Luckily, though, he will happily drop marbles into the start wells with two boys once I have constructed a behemoth of a run.
Me? Yeah, once the thing’s built I lose all interest, so it’s nice that Mr. Lannis is willing to stick around and cheer on the insanity. And I mean insanity: the five-year-old and almost-four-year-old bouncing up and down screaming as they support their favourite marbles in the race to the bottom. (We’ve a marble that’s cream coloured with coffee brown swirls my youngest has dubbed Twiggle-Wiggles. Of course! What else would one name a marble?!).
The marble run was so popular in our household--yes, the whole house! Even the cats liked it!--that Santa magically brought another set this year--without our even asking! Man, that dude seriously does see everything!--so now we can make even bigger runs, or many, many, (good, Lord, when does it stop?!) many small runs...
Or, you know, construct a bunch of laser blasters (guns are only for hunting) and run around like fools shooting the houseplants (we don’t shoot people, and the cat swatted someone one day so we don’t shoot animals, either!)... because, well, even though I put in an order for girls, instead I got a lecture from my doctor about genetics and reproduction...
Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]
I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.
If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.
Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.
If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.
