We’d be much happier if we wouldn’t judge ourselves by how someone else fares

“And Eisav said, ‘Behold, I am going to die so what do I need the birthright for?’ ” (Bereishis 25:32)

Eisav returned home hungry and exhausted after a rage-filled rampage of murder and promiscuity. Chazal explain that these acts were a rebellious reaction to the death of his saintly grandfather. His brother, Yaakov, understood Eisav well and seized the moment. He offered him a steaming bowl of red lentil soup — immediate tangible satisfaction — in exchange for an intangible piece of spirituality, his birthright.

Eisav, who had no regard for the birthright, traded it for soup. However, when Yaakov then claims his allotment and receives the blessings from Yitzchak, Eisav goes into a frenzy. He wants to kill Yaakov over something which he’d just claimed was useless. Why the complete turnaround? (Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky, Parsha Parables)

Our Shabbos seudos do not start with Kiddush. Instead, there’s a strict family minhag that begins with chanting:

“I get to sit next to Mommy at this seudah!”

“No, you sat next to Tatty last seudah!

“Nuh-uh, it’s MY turn.”

My husband and I have seriously considered buying a round boardroom-type table, with an opening in the center. He and I will sit in the center on swivel chairs and turn around throughout the seudah so each child can’t be jealous of the proximity of his sibling to his parents.

Honestly, it won’t work. They’ll find something else to be jealous of, because sibling rivalry is as old as… well, as old as your second child’s age.

Rav Chaim Soloveitchik was once approached by a wealthy butcher. The man asked Rav Chaim to pasken on a recently slaughtered steer that was worth a large sum of money. Rav Chaim checked the animal and said, “I’m sorry, but this animal has a diseased lung and isn’t kosher.” The man accepted the ruling calmly. “It’s fine,” he replied, “I can afford to make a sacrifice once in a while.”

A month later, the same person appeared before Rav Chaim together with another man. They were arguing about an insignificant sum of money, and the butcher insisted that they present their case to the Rav. Once again, Rabbi Soloveitchik issued a ruling against the butcher, but this time, his reaction was very different. He ranted and raved that the Rav didn’t know how to adjudicate even a simple question, even threatening him. Rav Chaim’s children expelled the man from their home, but then asked, “Wasn’t this the same man that revered your judgment regarding the cow? Wasn’t his loss then much more than this particular loss? Why was he so amenable then and so incensed now?”

Professor Jeanine Vivona, a psychologist who studies sibling rivalry, says that this competition actually serves a developmental purpose: It helps children differentiate, or in layman’s terms, figure out what’s unique and special about themselves. Each child wants to be seen as the most special by their parents, so they’re always going to push for preferential treatment over their siblings.

As a parent, I wonder how I can avoid this. I try to relate to each of my children as individuals. I’ve never even dressed them alike (gasp!). Yet despite my best efforts, sibling rivalry seems to be inevitable.

“This man is basically a good person,” explained Rav Chaim, “accepting a large loss when I prohibited the sale of the meat. However, today I awarded someone else money that he perceived to be his. People are willing to lose for Heaven’s sake, but they cannot handle a loss when someone else is getting what they believe is theirs.”

Eisav chose soup, because at that moment the birthright meant nothing to him. However, once his brother reaped reward for the birthright, that Eisav couldn’t handle. Eisav wasn’t bothered about the blessings he lost. Eisav was bothered about the blessings that Yaakov won!

So, too, we, when assessing our own personal losses and gains, we’d be much happier if we wouldn’t judge ourselves by how someone else fares.

Still the eternal optimist, I fantasize about the day when Abie Rotenberg’s song in my home will be adapted like this:

Oish! Yitzi got a smaller piece of cake than me!

Help! I got four candies, but Shloime only got three!

Avi needs a brand-new bike, I’ll give him mine.

Let’s all go to sleep at eight ’cuz sharing bedtime’s fine!

Hey! A mom can dream, can’t she?

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 920)