"Oooh, you Dexcom is coming off, Mama."
She examined the sensor close up, touching the feathered edges.
"It is. But it'll hang on for a bit. Thankfully, I have these dinosaur tattoos to protect it," I said, gesturing towards the two garish temporary tattoos stuck to my thigh, my legs the victim of a first birthday party gift bag we scored earlier in the day.
"We put that there! Dinosaurs on you ... your Dexcom. Rawr!!!!!!!"
Later that night, I scrubbed at the dinosaurs but they didn't budge. ("Hey now," they seemed to say as I tried to slough them off with a facecloth.) I didn't exactly mind - they make me feel like I'm temporarily rewarded for making the sensor last as long as I can. And today, they're still hanging tough, keeping creepy watch over my Dexcom sensor as I do the diabetes daily duties.
This morning, when Birdy woke up, she popped her thumb out of her mouth and immediately asked me if the tattoos were still there.
"You still have the rawr dinosaurs on your leg by the Dexcom, Mama?"
I showed her the slightly-tattered-but-still-holding-on evidence.
"Nice job, Mama. They look tough."