Isabella has this particular way of being tucked in to bed.

I don’t know where it came from, but somewhere along the line it became a thing. A thing that she requires every single night. She sleeps on top of a plush red blanket with white polka dots and she sleeps underneath a plush white blanket with red polka dots. It’s a soft-side of the plush blankets sandwich. She also sleeps on three pillows, that are lined up just so.

Her water glass needs to be filled exactly 3/4 of the way up, and Snuggles the Irish Bear needs to be upright and facing her.

I have a thing about making the bed. If it’s not made certain way, I will remake it — redo the hospital corners, redo the folding over of the sheet, redo where the pillows are lined up.

At night, my husband — who doesn’t care about the sheets and the blankets and the pillows — has a bit of a linens party and messes everything up. This forces me to actually take my person out of bed to remove the sheets and blanket so I can properly return them to the bed in a way that makes me and my weird bed brain comfortable.

For Isabella’s first big homework assignment in 4th grade she was required to draw the outline of a giant I and fill it in with words that describe her and her personality. She asked for a bit of help thinking outside the box once she had already filled it with the typical appropriate things like sister, daughter, friend, artist, ice skater, hip hop dancer, animal lover, Cake Boss fan, cookie dough eater, sidewalk chalk drawer.

Me: There are so many great ways to describe you. 

Her: Oh! Wait, I know…OCD.

Me: I know, love, oh how I know.