Remember how I said that my son Declan’s first major concert would be at Red Rocks, no matter what? Um. I think you all are gonna cry foul on this one.

Because we are taking him to the Mile High Music Festival this weekend.

Yes, Yes, I KNOW! Dick’s Sporting Goods Park - while very nice - is certainly NOT RED ROCKS.

But here’s the thing. John Mayer is playing the Mile High Music Festival.

And Declan’s history with John Mayer goes back a long way.

Exhibit A: When I was trying to be, um, “caught” with Declan, Room For Squares had just been released. And while we were incredibly lucky to be, errm, “caught” in just 4 months, there was a lot of “Your Body is a Wonderland” going on in the background. To this day, Bryan still thinks that album is one of the most boom-chicka-wow-wow collections of music there ever was. Besides Barry White, of course. Read on …

Editor’s Note: Scroll down to enter our Mother’s Day giveaway today: a scrumptious Scentsy wickless candle and warmer!

My husband, son and I were just back from running errands the other day and as we pulled into the driveway, the song “Walk On The Wild Side” by Lou Reed came on. Whoof. I had not heard that song in *forever* and I commented on how much I liked it. Declan says “Let’s stay and listen to it, Mama!”

Without thinking, I cheerily said - “sure!” He crawled up into Bryan’s lap and we sat there listening to it and I was FRUH-EAKING OUT as Lou refreshed my memory to the lyrics. I’ll save you some of the rougher parts, but just to refresh your memory:

Little Joe never once gave it away
Everybody had to pay and pay

Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
I said, hey Joe, take a walk on the wild side

Now I know why Bryan looked at me like I had three heads as I said “sure!” in such a chipper voice.

And when Declan starts making dirty little deals on the bad side of town, you can totally blame me.

What accidental faux pas have you made as a parent?

No disrespect to my mother, but growing up, we didn’t have much music in the house. Unless you count German oom-pah music, of course. It just was never something that was all that important to her. Still isn’t.

For whatever reason, it was important to me. My first job was working in a record store (granted, a record store in the mall not the cool indie shop like where my husband worked) and I quickly learned to appreciate all kinds of music styles (well, except maybe old school country). I saw my first concert at 15 and steadily pumped all my hard-earned record store earnings into live shows all around Maryland and that love (and expense) continued through my college years in Florida.

When we moved to Colorado, we discovered the granddaddy of all places to see a show (insert angelic choir sounds): R-E-D R-O-C-K-S. This is what U2 what talking about, baby. We have seen so many shows at Red Rocks, and other venues around the state, that when people ask for a concert count, I don’t have near enough body parts to count them on anymore.

When my son Declan came along, we decided a few things early. First, NO KIDDIE MUSIC IN THE CAR. Yes, I appreciate the music and grammar basics these songs will teach him, but my car is my sanctuary, OK? A girl needs her sanctuary. The last thing I want is to be stuck driving around in July with some Kiddie Winter Wonderland CD stuck in the radio because Declan insists on hearing Jingle Bells over and over. I’m sorry, kid. I love you but not that much. Read on …

Hubby and I had lunch at The Yard House recently. (OK, more like *every* day, but who’s counting?) The Yard House, with 50 zillion beers on tap, none of which we can have over lunch, also blasts classic rock incessantly over their loud speakers. And while I have nothing intrinsically against classic rock, and there certainly are many AWESOME classic rock songs out there - let’s face it… there are also some REALLY cruddy classic rock songs that somehow co-exist in the same universe with Led Zeppelin and The Who.

That day was no exception. One crappy song after the other played throughout our burger-and-salad meal, till finally we hit the motherload.

Amie by Pure Prairie League.

I nearly fainted. “Argh! I hate this song. The only ‘Amy’ song in the whole entire world and I am forced to listen to THIS garbage over and over my whole entire life.”

Bryan totally agreed. “This song belongs on The Soundtrack of My Own Personal Hell.” Read on …

Actually, let me rephrase that. I don’t mean to ask whether your personal iPod is populated with tunes from The Wiggles and Laurie Berkner. What I’m asking is whether you play kids’ music at home or in the car or tailor your musical choices to those that are appropriate for kids - meaning that you don’t tune into KBPI or crack open the Skinny Puppy when the kids are in the car with you.

Or do you say to hell with it - they ought to appreciate the classics like AC/DC and The Stones, so why not start them early? Read on …