I think most parents have the expectation that their kids will be mini-carbon copies of themselves.

I can remember the first time I held each of my infants, and staring at their little red scrunched up faces, trying to figure out who they resembled.

In time, their various characteristics have emerged, sometimes favoring the Wonderful Husband, sometimes favoring me, sometimes favoring some distant relative we’ve only seen in pictures.

As they’ve gotten older, and their personalities have become more defined, we’ve realized that they do a lot more than look like us. We find ourselves frequently saying things like, “Well of course he did that, that’s what I would have done.”

It’s easy to take credit for the good stuff. A’s good grades and love of reading remind me of myself at his age. G is an intrepid outdoorsman, just like the Wonderful Husband. E loves to swim and excels at it, just like I did. These are all the things that make us smile and nod when people tell us how much our kids remind them of us.

Unfortunately, we aren’t always just talking about the good things they do. The WH and I argue about whose lack of patience A has inherited.

The poor kid probably got a double dose and that’s why he’s the single most impatient person on the planet. The only shorter fuse than the Wonderful Husband’s is G’s.

E’s thin skin and inability to handle any kind of constructive criticism without a breakdown reminds me so much of me when I was her age, I find myself avoiding doing anything that will set her off, especially if she’s already having a bad day. Since we’re still struggling with these character flaws ourselves, it’s hard to offer guidance to our offspring.

Ever now and again, though, there is a surprise. An interest or an attitude comes out of nowhere and it can stop a parent in their tracks. It seems that as the kids are getting older, this is starting to happen more frequently, and crazy things are happening!

A’s interest in stage crew was in line with things he’s done before. Ultimately, he wanted to learn how to operate the lighting and sound systems, which is right up his technology-obsessed alley.

So, color me stunned when he came home last year and announced that he was going to be trying out for a role in this year’s fall play. Since I’ve got a tin ear and a terrible voice, I didn’t hold out much hope that he would have any success and I spent quite a bit of time preparing a gentle letdown speech for him. The joke was on me when the cast list came out and he landed an actual role.

Although this was out of left field for him, he has gone into this adventure wholeheartedly and it seems like he never stops practicing. It’s gotten to the point that every one of us knows most of the words to most of the songs, and I’m a little nervous as to how we will all sit quietly and watch the play in a few months.

Earlier this spring, all the kids had been impressed into doing yard work. Of course, there was much grumbling as they weeded and trimmed and raked and dragged debris out of the yard. This was not at all surprising. What was surprising was G’s sudden interest in landscaping. We have this big old rock in the front yard. As a kid, I can remember sitting on it, pretending it was a horse. It’s long and skinny, and made a great place to lie down and look up at the sky, pondering cloud shapes. G saw the rock as a whale, beached in the yard. “Mom, you know, if we planted one of those big plants right at the of the rock, it would look like the whale was spraying water.”

A few weeks later, we stumbled on the $1 clearance bin of spring bulbs and flowers. G found exactly what he was looking for: elephant ears. I thought maybe he would transform the rock from a whale to an elephant and plant one on either side, but he stuck with his original plan. Now, we have a full blown whale spout in the yard, and since everything in the bin was a leftover and only $1, he picked out a number of other plants which he and the WH planted in all sorts of areas around the house, the barn, and the patio.

While his interest in anything outdoors isn’t so much of a surprise, the fact that he is paying attention to color schemes and when plants will grow and flower, and how to have fun plants in the yard all summer long is a bit of a surprise. What I’m coming to realize about G is that it isn’t so much about the plants, or even his chickens, as it is about him having a nurturing side to him that enjoys helping living things grow and thrive. It’s an interesting juxtaposition to the side of him that enjoys hunting.

E’s surprising trait isn’t really a surprise, just more of a realization that certain traits do run in families but can skip a generation or two and then come back with a vengeance. My grandmother was only around for the first two years of E’s life, but from her love of all things glittery and sparkly to her love of any arts and crafts, E is a mini version of my grandmother in more ways than one. I can’t count the number of times E has come downstairs, dressed in some outlandish outfit and I can’t help thinking that her great-grandmother would just love to have been twinsies.

Right now, E is in a beadwork phase. I remember my grandmother’s beadwork phase very well, she made everything from floral decorations to plant holders, from jewelry to baskets out of beads. E picked up a kit to make beaded bracelets and she’s expanded her enterprise to include beaded necklaces and keychains. Just like her GG, she builds on one idea and transforms it into something completely different.

Too many times, I feel like the curveballs that I’ve been thrown as a parent are overwhelming and stressful. Expecting the unexpected usually means waiting for the other shoe to drop. But, just often enough so that we don’t go completely crazy, the surprises turn out to be a lot of fun and can take us down a road we’ve never been down before, or one that we might have forgotten was behind us.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.