My teenage son is a better mum than me sometimes

With four children under one roof, it’s hardly surprising the phrase ‘sibling rivalry’ comes up every now and again.

Much of it passes me by, if I’m honest. Home wouldn’t be home without the sound of children bickering over a computer game or taunting each after over who’s more accomplished in the latest neighbourhood craze. In a small way, I welcome the (mostly) good natured squabbling because, coming from a big family myself, I appreciate the way siblings knock chips off each other shoulders.

However, a particular type of sibling rivalry reared its ugly head recently and I was horrified to realise I had unwittingly initiated the ill feeling.

Attempting to help my seven-year-old son, Alex, with his homework last week, I assured him that he would soon get the hang of it “because his older brother never had any trouble with it.” How I thought a seven-year-old would be placated by such a loaded statement, I don’t know. Distracted by a million other things, I said the first thing I thought might reassure him.

My seven-year-old idolises his older brother, so in retrospect, all he heard was me comparing his apparent struggles to his sibling’s lack thereof.

Bravo, mum.

I only realised the impact my words had on him a few days later when he asked for help with an after-school project. Hands full, I started to call my 14-year-old into the kitchen to give his little brother a hand, but was interrupted by a panicked half-shout from Alex who stopped me introducing his brother to the act.

“No, no, not Chris. He’ll laugh. He’s smarter than me. Even you said it.”

To say my heart dropped like a stone is an understatement.

My mind whirled as I frantically wondered when I could have possibly uttered such a statement. I’ve said and done some ridiculous things in my time, but in a moment of total lunacy had I actually told one of my children that one was more intelligent than the other?

Had he dreamed it? Had I unwittingly said it in my sleep and he heard?

And then the penny dropped.

Alex’s sullenness towards his older brother over recent days finally made sense. He was jealous over what he thought I had meant by my hurried reassurance and could only articulate his feelings through gruff behaviour and mean-spirited exchanges. Alex would have continued to behave in that manner had it not come to crunch time when I appeared to put the two of them in an academic boxing ring to spar it out in front of me.

Dear God, I sometimes wonder what I put my children through.

I knew nothing I could have said would have meant as much as anything Chris could have told his little brother at that point.

So in my time of maternal despair, I turned to my teenage son to fix my mess. I know, I know. Mothering 101.

I won’t go to in the exchange that followed because Chris would rather die than have people know that under his carefully styled, über-cool exterior he’s actually soft as butter and hugely protective of his younger siblings.

Having put out the fire, Chris left the room, but not without looking at me and muttering ‘You’re an idiot sometimes’

Believe me, I know.