A good birthday celebration helps make everything feel better, especially when the reason it's good is because it was arranged by people who love you.

Eric took Sam out last night to shop. Honestly, that in itself was an excellent part of the birthday gifting, as Sam and I were not having a good day together. (He's now added "Never!" and "Go away!" to his existing repertoire of "Don't!" "Stop it!" and "Noooooooo!") Anyway, the men went out, leaving me at home alone in blissful silence for a few hours. When they came back, Eric directed me to put Sam to bed immediately, then stay upstairs until he told me I could come down.

When he gave me the signal, I descended to find a living room full of candles and a blanket and pillows on the floor. He give me the best full-body massage, complete with eucalyptus scented oils, to help relieve some of the stress I've been feeling lately. (We won't say what happened after the massage.)

This morning, after a great night's sleep, I opened the rest of my presents. Sam had picked out a Yankee Candle for me, "all by himself." I told Eric that I wasn't surprised at his choice; the label on the candle showed ears of corn, and corn is currently the uncontested champion on Sam's list of Very Favorite Foods. Sam helped me light and blow out the candle repeatedly and was in heaven.

Eric, on the other hand, seems to be in close contact with heaven's residents when it comes to gift-giving. He got me a lovely, red Victoria's Secret nighty, a box of Godiva truffles, a bottle of jasmine-scented oil, and - was that an opal? It's my birthstone, and he went way over the top in picking out a lovely opal necklace.

"How much did you spend?" I demanded.

"Why? Do you want to take something back?"

"No. I want to go back in time and make your birthday better."

And as if my day wasn't going well enough, I shortly thereafter got a phone call from Alysia, offering to take Sam for the day. I ended up with a whole day to myself! I had peace and quiet to plan my lesson for tonight's class uninterrupted! I could go to a nice restaurant for lunch without worrying about whether they'd have food suitable for Sam (not to mention an atmosphere that could accommodate a noisy toddler). What strange, sweet fortune!

I ended up going to a new Indian restaurant, where I luxuriated in being able to take my time eating. It seemed especially appropriate, considering that tonight's lecture was on the music of India, and I took my text and notes to read over lunch. The food was phenomenal, and the surroundings really helped me focus on the subject of my studies.

After I got home, things began to go a bit haywire. Sam came home wired, sobbing his heart out for the friend he was leaving, and as soon as I calmed him down a bit, Eric called.

"Things are hosed here at the plant," he said. "I'll call and let you know if I'm running late." A few minutes later, I got another call from him. "Bring Sam here," he said. "And come through town; the interstate is backed up."

I threw everything into the car, including the tiny cake I'd bought for us to share when Eric got home. We made it there in time for Sam to throw a huge tantrum, and I tried to pacify him while Eric made the handout copies that I wasn't going to make it to the college in time to do for myself. Those done, we hurriedly slice the cake, ate, and I hit the road.

I had to take the backed-up interstate. It took me an hour to get there instead of the expected twenty minutes. Thank God I'd had the extra time at lunch to go over the material; as it was, I was able to get into the classroom five minutes before class was to start, no time to look over my notes a final time, and still pull off the lecture with panache. Thanks again, Alysia!

Finally home - but Eric and Sam weren't. I was listening to the phone messages when Eric called. "I'm almost to our exit," he said, "and I need you to grab Sam from the car so I can go back." I guessed that meant no birthday "fun." Oh, well.

Now Sam's in bed, and Eric got home a minute ago, and we're both too exhausted to even think about "celebrating." Still, it was a mostly good birthday. I feel pampered and satisfied. I think I can face another year now!

Saturday evening, Alysia and I are going out for a Girls' Night. She says "Bar-Hopping Hot." Do I even own anything that could be described in that way? Suddenly I feel a lot older than twenty-eight. Then I remember: I didn't bar-hop even when I was in college. I don't think it's an age thing. I can only remember a handful of trips to any bars at all, and I always felt a bit out of place - pushed, elbowed, sticky.

But I'm not too old to learn a few new tricks, I hope. I may not be able to pull off "hot," but I don't have to be "matronly," either. Ideas?