From breakfast messes to fridge art — how our butterfly tattoos found their way into everything.
It started as a small test. I left a few butterfly tattoos on the kitchen table last Saturday, thinking my girls would ignore them until after breakfast. They didn’t. They tore the sheet in half before I finished my coffee.
The first one they tried was yellow — sunny and easy to see even when they were moving around too much.
By lunchtime, the younger one had somehow managed to stick hers sideways on her wrist, then decided that made it “fly faster.” I didn’t correct her.
The orange tattoo sheet from the same pack came next. She wanted to match the juice cup on the counter.
It looked surprisingly nice against her skin, and by dinner it had faded just a little, like the color of used crayons. I liked that. Real life rarely stays bright all day.
Monday was blue day. The older one wore it to school and told her teacher it was “for thinking quietly.”
She came home with half the class wanting one. The teacher asked if it was safe, which made me smile — yes, dermatologist tested, water-based ink, wipes off with baby oil. No drama, no stains, no tears.
On Tuesday night she picked the purple one for story time (her bedtime favorite).
It caught the bedside lamp just right, and she said the light made it “a little sleepy too.” I think that’s the moment I decided to add these to our next party box.
Later in the week, we tried pink — it’s everyone’s favorite until it’s not.
She stuck one too high up on her sleeve, then peeled it halfway off and declared it a new species. That became our running joke: “the half-butterfly kind.”
The unexpected experiments
One afternoon, I saw them pressing leftover red-orange tattoos from the same pack onto notebook covers. They used clear tape on top to “make them shiny.”
I joined in and made a few for the fridge — a small chaos of colors next to grocery lists and magnets.
By the next morning, one had slipped down the door and landed near the dog’s bowl. Nobody cared. We just moved it higher and laughed.
Then came the bandage day — scraped knees, drama, and somehow, more tattoos.
She wanted the butterfly on the bandage “so it can fly over it.” I couldn’t argue with that logic.
How we really use them
We’ve now done everything you’re probably not supposed to do with temporary tattoos:
- Turned them into fridge magnets under tape.
- Decorated water bottles (they lasted a week).
- Made party favors that disappeared before cake time.
- Used them to label art boxes when markers ran out.
There’s a small drawer in our kitchen that keeps extras. When friends come over, the tattoos end up next to crayons, tape, and half-used stickers — basically the “whatever keeps them busy” drawer.
They pick colors depending on mood. Some days they match; some days they don’t. Once, my older one gave the last blue butterfly to her cousin without saying anything. That was the only moment I wished I’d saved a few more.
What I learned from all this
Kids don’t think about “collections.” They just see something small that makes sense to them right now.
Blue today, pink tomorrow. That’s enough reason.
That’s also how Cici & Jiajia began — bedtime doodles, small choices, things that felt right in the moment. The tattoos are safe, soft, and wash away easily, but somehow the stories stick longer.
There’s no slogan here, really. Just a note to remember:
keep a few butterflies on hand. You’ll be surprised where they end up — on a wrist, a notebook, maybe even guarding the fridge door.
