I find myself living with a child who embodies the essence of a human version of a grumpy cat. He’s a creature of habit, and woe to anyone who disrupts his routine — or who happens to be nearby when his mood shifts. If you dare to wake him by flipping on the light, brace yourself for a cloud of irritation to settle over the house. He prefers solitude, claiming that people “bother” him. And if you ask him how his day was, you can expect responses like “dreadful” or “the worst ever.”
This cantankerous little guy isn’t some old man yelling at kids to stay off his lawn; he’s my son. For his entire 14 years, he has been this way. I often joke that he’s an old soul in training, and he seems to embrace that label as if it were his life’s ambition.
As a concerned mother, I spent quite a bit of time worrying about his demeanor. I searched for clues to understand why he seemed to exist in a constant state of dissatisfaction. Hormones couldn’t be the culprit, as he has been like this since he was a toddler, long before he experienced any teenage changes.
Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I may have simply given birth to a naturally cranky individual.
He doesn’t suffer from depression, nor is he surrounded by negativity; in fact, we strive to be positive influences, consistently trying to brighten his outlook. Yet, despite our best attempts to lift his mood, he naturally leans toward a prickly, less enthusiastic demeanor.
Just as we inherit traits like eye color and handedness, we also come into this world with specific temperaments. My son, with his blue eyes and aptitude for technology, has a disposition that leans far from sunny. Even as an infant, he was a serious little cherub, with his rare gummy grins feeling all the more special precisely because they were so infrequent.
I can’t fathom being as persistently irritable as he tends to be, but he embraces his personality, exuding a remarkable sense of self-acceptance. When I say he doesn’t care what others think, I mean it.
Still, I make an effort to bring positivity into our daily lives, hoping that maybe today will be the day he recognizes the joy in being optimistic. “Look at this gorgeous morning!” I chirp as I draw back the curtains.
“I prefer it when it’s raining,” he replies, unenthusiastically. And he genuinely does. He loves curling up in his room with a blanket, watching the rain fall — perhaps not with a smile, but with a slightly less furrowed brow. When he’s in a relatively good mood, he’ll share dreams of moving to the Pacific Northwest someday, where it rains constantly, into a small apartment that would only fit him and his cats.
And that’s our routine.
Trying to change him is futile. He’s a morning person, a tech whiz, a cat enthusiast, and loves spicy food — and yes, he’s also a grump. It’s part of his essence, and he’s completely fine with it. If anyone has a problem with his demeanor, he would rather be alone. He is unapologetically himself, regardless of how different he may be from his more cheerful peers.
He is comfortable in his own (admittedly curmudgeonly) skin. Like Oscar the Grouch in his beloved trash can, he cannot be rallied out of his nature. No one on Sesame Street ever worried about Oscar’s disposition; they accepted him for who he was, embracing his quirks and loving him all the same.
As long as my son isn’t unkind to others or harming himself (and he’s not), he can enjoy his grumpiness to the fullest. Who am I to try to change his nature simply because it contrasts with mine? As his mother, my role is to accept and love him for who he is — even if I struggle to understand why he chooses to be that way.
Would it make daily life easier if my son were cheerful and met challenges with enthusiasm? Probably. But if he were different, he wouldn’t be the unique child I adore. I’ve learned to appreciate his frowns just as much as his smiles. After all, there’s beauty to be found even on rainy days, and no one knows that better than he does.
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In summary, my son’s naturally grumpy disposition is part of who he is, and rather than trying to change him, I embrace and accept his unique personality.