When it comes to certain things, I’m kind of a control freak. Things like family get-togethers where food is involved mostly.

So this year for Mother’s Day I decided we should have it at my house…which would be my first time hosting an event since the pool was completed. Perfect way to spend the day, am I right?

Everything was going according to plan and on time for my family to arrive at noon. All my neuroses were in check. I was on fire.

And then about 9am Sunday morning I decided we really needed to go buy a ping pong table and set it up in the driveway. You know, to offer some other activity for family and friends to participate in–besides drinking mimosas poolside.

For the whole ping pong table idea to work I would need help from someone who was well versed in putting things together. And someone who owned a truck. Enter Jeff.

Bless his heart.

He really had no idea what he was getting into when he decided to be in a relationship with me.

The man is a saint.

After pointing out the perfect outdoor tennis table complete with 4 paddles and a pack of 12 balls, I barked orders at the sporting goods store employees that they really needed to hurry it up with the loading process–we were on a tight schedule. When they still weren’t getting it that I meant business with a capital B, I offered to load the stinkin thing in the back of the truck myself. They laughed. What…assuming I was kidding?

Yada yada yada, we were back at home.

Poor Jeff, there were like a thousand pieces to this thing.

I squinched up my face and offered a pout. He looked at me. And then back at the pile of metal rods and hardware bits and said, “How did I get here?”

Yada yada yada, he put the ping pong table together. And almost cut off his left index finger in the process. Whatever. I’ll give you the speech I gave him. Ten fingers is a little extravagant, don’t you think?

We cleaned up all the blood just in time for the first guests to arrive. I greeted everyone with a Mother’s Day mimosa and a tour of the backyard.

Yada yada yada, it was time to eat.

My aunt brought Mimi (she’s doing fabulously by the way, it’s so weird how well she’s feeling these days) and she made her way around the room giving hugs and NOT hearing what anyone was saying.

I made the announcement that everyone should grab a plate and then I pointed out the pork butt and the roasted turkey and the pasta shrimp salad and the pinto beans and the potato rolls….and then out of nowhere Mimi grabbed me by the elbow and whisper shouted, “I think Cody wants to say the blessing.”

I looked over at my cousin Cody who was in a deep conversation with his wife. “Cody, Mimi says you’re dying to say Grace.”

“I am? Oh, OK.”

So everyone bowed their head. Cody began blessing the food and thanking God for all the moms, et cetera et cetera.

After the Amen we all started moving around the room again. I looked to my right and Mimi was standing very still, her head bowed, her eyes closed. Then she peeked out of the corner of one eye, I guess to see if we were finished praying.

That’s when I started laughing and walked over to Cody. “Dude, Mimi can’t even hear when you’re praying. I just caught her peeking to see if it was over. I’ve just decided that next time we do one of these family get-togethers we’re reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. How will she even know? It will be hilarious.”

“You’re going to hell.”

“See you there.”

“Sounds good.”

And that’s pretty much how Mother’s Day went.

God I cannot wait until the next family function. I’ve never looked so forward to anything so much IN MY LIFE.

One of the benefits of working with Xbox Kinect is I get to try out some really cool new games. OK, well that’s not exactly true. It’s my kids who get to try them out, mostly because they never let me have a turn.

This last month, we hosted a play date to test out a brand new game, Rush, A Disney Pixar Adventure game.

And oh my gosh guys, IT WAS A BLAST.

The best part of this whole story is that Xbox Kinect is letting me give away a fabulous prize pack!

Inside you will find:

Kinect Rush: A Disney Pixar Adventure
Kinect: Disneyland Adventures
Kinectimals Now with Bears

Three games, one winner!

All you have to do to enter to win is leave a comment telling me which Disney Pixar movie character you most identify with. A random winner will be selected from the comments.

Contest ends Friday, May 11th, 2012 at 6pm Central.

Thanks Xbox Kinect!

This Sunday is the return of that made up Hallmark holiday known as Mother’s Day. It’s that day where we all pretend to give Mom whatever she wants in hopes that she’ll stop sighing so loudly whenever we ask, “Can you do me a favor?”

You want her to stop sighing? Stop asking her for favors.

Here’s what I’m going to do for you. I’m going to tell you what Mom *really* wants this Mother’s Day. And none of it involves homemade arts and crafts. Or a gift card to Starbucks.

1. Learn to clip your own toenails. You’re eleven years old, for cryin out loud. You probably are *this close* to getting pubic hair and yet you can’t manage your own feet? Dude, you’re in for a nasty surprise.

2. Put your dishes in the dishwasher. Or better yet, eat on paper plates. You’re not too fancy for styrofoam, despite what you might think. And for god’s sake, wipe your mouth.

3. Stop being so loud in the morning. You stomp around like you’re moving furniture and it’s driving us crazy. And bring us coffee. French vanilla creamer, one Splenda. And don’t spill it.

4. You know that tall, rectangular piece of thick wood that stands between you and me? It’s called a door and when it’s shut you knock. If we don’t answer that’s the same thing as “go away.” It’s not code for “come on in and bring the neighbor kid with you, never mind the fact that I’m shaving my vagina.”

5. When you ask us a question and we give you the CORRECT answer, don’t argue and say that we’re wrong. You know what? You’re exactly right. The sun *IS* the 8th planet in our solar system. You should probably go ahead and move out while you have all the answers.

6. On that rare occasion that we’re feeling ill, please just let us be. We want to feel like we’re dying in peace. We don’t want to make you dinner, help with homework, or clean the skid marks out of your last pair of clean underwear. Do you hate us this much?

7. When we ask you how we look in our new dress, don’t squint your face all crazy like and ask if it’s supposed to stick out so far in the back. That’s our ass, you insensitive schmo. Guess what? You’ve got half our genes. Which will eventually be a problem for your JEANS.

8. Try saying “Thanks, Mom” or “You rock, Mom” or “You’re so skinny, Mom” or “You’re not as mean as (fill in the blank)’s mom, Mom.” Kindness goes a long way and also we know where you hide your journal.

9. Stop complaining about everything. Seriously, we could hand you a hundred dollar bill and say, “Go! Have fun!” And you would find something wrong with what just happened. You act ungrateful and that reflects our parenting skills and the people’s kids down the street seem so much more…we don’t know…polite and stuff…and we kinda hate them. Straighten up or we’ll stop cutting the crusts off your PB & J.

10. Leave us alone for 12 solid hours. Please. One day, 12 hours. That’s all we ask. We don’t even care where you go. Rated R movie, strip bar, Harley Davidson bike rally, Southern Baptist church revival. Seriously, we don’t care. Just go away.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there. I hope you get one of these things you want. You probably won’t seeing how your kid’s an asshole, but it’s fun to dream!

I spend a lot of time on the Internet. But not in the traditional sense, like you might assume. I’m not involved in any sort of alternative lifestyle like witchcraft or sex with barnyard animals (although I did recall being strangely attracted to a horse once–it was a long time ago and I had been on an all day wine tasting tour–but that’s a story for another time). I don’t use the Internet to read up on conspiracy theory or to follow the latest celebrity gossip. Although I admit both of those subjects are intriguing, mostly because of their obvious relatedness.

What I’m talking about is an app on my iPhone called Instagram. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. I’m sure you have it on your smartphone yourself. But in case you haven’t or you don’t, then know one thing. You’re totally missing out on one of life’s little gems.

I love Instagram. I love it because I am all about instant gratification. Or instant anything for that matter. Instant oatmeal, instant hot cocoa…really, the faster I can get something the better.

So when a moment strikes…funny, cute, clever, weird, delicious…I snap a picture of it and post it online–on Instagram.

I thought I would share some of my favorite Instagram moments with you today. Mostly because I can’t be bothered to come up with any original, witty prose.

Sometimes I write love notes to my kids and post them various places.

My philosophy is, if you don’t use a fork, knife, spoon, or your hands while eating, the calories don’t count. I’m pretty sure this has been scientifically proven.

I make things, from scratch. Like donuts. (Are you as fascinated by me as I am?)

I’m raising my children to be their biggest fans.

Don’t hate me because I’m (obviously) low maintenance.

I channel my inner Sesame Street. For instance, this day was brought to you by the letter C.

I go places like Lowes, the cleaners, the bank, the grocery store…with cake batter smeared on my face. No one bothers telling me this is why they’re staring at me so I’m left to believe it was because they thought I was beautiful. Thanks for the collapse in my self esteem, society.

I text my friends uplifting messages of encouragement and praise.

When left in the capable hands of an older teenage sibling, things like this happen to rowdy children. I think she’s going to make a fantastic mother one day, don’t you?

I don’t know what kind of message my cat is trying to send with this seductive pose. Oh, maybe that’s the message.

When confronted by a snake, I do crazy shit like jump on the bed. You know, so it won’t eat my face off. Important to the story is that the snake in this case was dead. And rotting. The only real threat here was the fear I might pass out from the smell.

I noticed when I was going through all of my Instagram photos, there were a lot of these kinds of shots.

You think you’re so smart, don’t you.

Oh, iPhone.

I read really bad mommy porn.

I totally know the message my cat is sending this time. He’s saying, “you take any more pics of my genitals and I will kill you with this wheelbarrow. I know you’re allergic to it. I read your blog post.”

I only wish I had been there to see the teacher’s face when she graded this.

And so now you know. This is what I do with my free time. You can be a part of the instant gratification club known as Instagram too. Look me up. I’m shaunaglenn.

Coming up next, I’ll be posting a picture of someone who inspires me. Spoiler alert. It’s me.

I’ve wanted a pool ever since I moved into my house two years ago. And everyone I told that to said the same thing. “Your backyard isn’t big enough for a pool.”

Oh yeah? Is that right?

You know how when people tell you you can’t have something you want it even more? Well, to all you non-believers: In Your Face.

Turns out, my backyard is the perfect size for a pool. A teeny tiny one, but a pool nonetheless.

You see, a few months ago we embarked on a major backyard renovation/construction project, all because I was dead set on digging a gigantic hole in the ground for which to splash about. And while there were days during said construction it seemed like it would never get finished, surprisingly it’s done. And man, it is something to see.

Instead of writing about my backyard transformation, I’ll tell the story in pictures.

Once upon a time…