There were a lot of things I expected I would have battles with my kids over; most of them have not been as bad as I expected. But then there are the unexpected battles of parenthood.  The ones that hit you over the head when you least expect it.

Speaking of which, being hit over the head literally, by my then-toddler with his corn popper toy.  Made of a solid unforgiving plastic.  Perfect for lining up the target (i.e. my head) and giving it a good wallop. Struck so hard I saw stars, my son looked quizzically at me after launching his successful attack, wondering why Mommy was moaning.

A huge battle is the remote control.  I never thought I would be battling a 3 year old for a remote control.  And especially not so passionately. My idea that the device was the bastion of adults until at least the teen years now seems completely naïve.   Along that line, the constant arguments over which streaming service carries his momentarily favorite cartoon.  “Nooooooo, not Amazon!  Mom, it’s Netflix!  Power Rangers is on Netflix!”

One we may never agree on is which color is really yellow.  I know my yellow.  Really, kid, I have been around so much longer than you and I do know my yellow when I see it, even when you are thoroughly convinced the crayon called Summer Ocean is yellow; it still is not and you are wrong.

The fierceness of the personal hygiene battles has surprised me; where teeth brushing is experienced as a form of child abuse akin to waterboarding and hair brushing is viewed as an attempt to maim. The screams, hands to the head and mouth, and evasive maneuvers begin long before brush touches teeth or scalp.

I expected my children to fight. I did. But as a grown “only child”, I never expected the sudden random sibling violence that erupts for no apparent reason.  Sudden kicks worthy of an Olympic level soccer player from my preschooler to my unsuspecting toddler, knocking her off couches and beds are his norm.

Who knew my water bottle would draw children to it like grape juice to white carpeting?  I dream of sitting down with an ice cold bottle of water and reaching for it twenty minutes later and having it still be where I left it.  It’s akin to a winning Powerball ticket, I realize, but there you have it.

While these are some of the unexpected ones, there are some I expected that haven’t come, at least not yet.  I am certain there are many more to come, and I will be surprised by most, if not all, of them.