Aidan and I got to see Bruno Mars on Sunday night. It was her first concert experience since the Wiggles toot-toot-chugga-chugga’d into Denver during their 2002 tour. We met Murray Wiggle that afternoon. It was a big enough deal that I included the news in our Christmas letter.

I didn’t get out much in 2002.

I didn’t get out much in 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010—at least to many concerts and shows with the kids. I’ve seen a few with them, but nothing approaching the popularity and broad appeal of Bruno Mars.

Our experience was thanks to sheer dumb Twittery luck. I RT’d and followed @popchipsCO for a chance to win 2 tickets and my name was plucked out of Bruno’s fedora. It was a happy surprise. They FedEx’d the tickets to me along with 9 bags of crazy addictive popchips in 7 different flavors. A few days later, Aidan and I found ourselves snug in some nice seats at a nearby arena.

My first real concert experience happened around 1986 or so when Sting performed in Denver at a venue called Fiddler’s Green. My mom treated my sister and I to a trip over the mountains from Grand Junction. It was a huge deal to us. Not many nationally or internationally-known music superstars stopped in Grand Junction for anything more than a bathroom break or a layover on their way to Aspen or Telluride.

I suppose I was thinking of how much fun I had on that trip when I decided to take Aidan with me to Bruno Mars. Of course, the fact she likes and knows his songs helps.

The whole night, I thought about how grateful I was to be there with her. She’s off to high school next year and it’s a bittersweet time in her life and mine. She’s my first baby. It’s important that I spend time alone with her, away from the chaos and cacophony of life with a zillion little siblings to do something cool. Grown-up. To stay up late, to have lemon meringue pie after, to talk, to laugh. To buy a shirt for her that will remind me that happy surprises should always be embraced and commemorated in 100% cotton.

The last song of Bruno’s regular set was Just the Way You Are.

What did I do? Got teary-eyed.

Never was there a more teary mama than me. Cut me open. I don’t have blood in my veins. I have sap. Pure sugary syrupy sentiment powers these fingers and my heart and my tear ducts. Bruno’s lyrics got to me right here, square in the heart:

Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining
Her hair, her hair, falls perfectly without her trying
She’s so beautiful, and I tell her everyday
Yea, I know, I know, when I compliment her she won’t believe me
And it’s so, it’s so sad to think that she don’t see what I see
But every time she asks me, do I look okay, I say

Chorus
When I see your face, there is not a thing that I would change
Cause you’re amazing, just the way you are
And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you’re amazing, just the way you are

Anyway, it was one of those moments I admit to being a little over-the-top when it comes to assigning Grand Significance, but it’s true.

I tell her every day.

And she doesn’t always believe me.

Have you heard that the voters of San Francisco will decide if circumcision should be banned?

Do you believe parents have the right to make this medical decision for their sons? Or are there compelling reasons why circumcision should be banned? After all, most of the world’s men seem to get along fine without undergoing the procedure.

I wrote about the controversy at Mile High Mamas. Even if you don’t have sons, you must have an opinion. If the ballot measure is successful, it could spread to a city/state near you. Parents everywhere should make their voices heard—no matter what side of the issue you take.