Tough Love

I give my boys "tough love" all the time. You know, when your kids is flipping out and claiming that you hate him because you've grounded him from his tablet because you caught him casually walking out of church, planning to just walk home without telling anyone in -10 degree weather? That's tough love. You are doing something hard so that your child grows up to be a safe and responsible person even though those big blue eyes swimming with tears makes you want to waive the punishment and let him play as much Lego Harry Potter as he wants.
However, I am also on the receiving end of tough love. In this case, the word "tough" means unbreakable, resilient, tough-as-nails, titanium, etc. This is the kind of love I receive from my two youngest who have, of late, become very verbose in their expressions of just how unbreakable and resilient their love for me is.
To be fair, their love has always been tough because it has always been very physical. Benjamin, for example, has never held much stock in personal space. He likes to sneak up next you and noodle his way beneath your arm or suddenly appear on your lap. As he is all angles, this can be a very painful process, like having a mace and chain wriggling its way into your armpit. Similarly, Tobias is a consummate snuggler. He has perfected the art of latching himself onto another person like a giant, adorable leach. His surprise-attack hugs have more than once almost knocked me off of my feet. He pops up when you least expect him, like between Marc and myself when we are embracing. He just wiggles himself right in there and yells "Squish hug!". Sometimes I feel as though he is trying to meld with me, like a physical version of the Vulcan mind meld. (If you get that reference, congratulations. You are a nerd.) Anyway, it was during one of these tough love sessions in which Benjamin had draped himself across my lap and Tobias had wrapped himself so tightly around my leg that I was in danger of losing circulation, that the verbal escalation began. It started like this:

Tobias: Mommy, I love you so much.
Me: I love you too, buddy.
Tobias: I love you more than you love me.
Me: I don't think that's possible buddy. I love you an awful lot.
Tobias: I love you with my whole heart!
Benjamin: Tobias! You can't love someone with your heart, you love them with your brain! Your heart just pumps blood. Your brain thinks and feels things.
Tobias: Then I love Mommy with my whole brain!
Benjamin: Then I love Mommy with my whole brain to infinity!
Tobias: I love Mommy with my whole brain and all the brains of everyone in the whole world to infinity!

That seemed to be the end of the conversation for the day. Predictably, with boys, something that should have been cute and sweet quickly turned into an anatomy lesson and a contest. Little did I know, that this tough love contest would continue. Our lovely nanny recorded the boys have the following conversation a few days later:

Benjamin: I love Mommy with all the brains of all the living and dead people and all the hearts of all the living and dead people. Their whole hearts!
Tobias: I love Mom with the whole entire multiverse.
Benjamin: I love Mommy so much, that when we went in a black hole we didn't die!
Tobias: I love Mom so much that when we're dead we're still living..... together...... forever....

Tobias said the last sentence in a weird cadence and then his voice trailed off in a kind of eerie manner. I wasn't sure if I should feel super loved and flattered, a little creeped out, impressed that talk of black holes and the multiverse is normal fodder for a 6 and 7 year old in my house, or just plain baffled. I laughed really hard when I heard the recording, and then wondered if I should call a child therapist.
As I've pondered, however, I think I'm going to go with flattered. I mean, if their love is powerful enough to carry one through a black hole, that is pretty serious stuff. Some light research reveals that black holes, at least theoretical electrically charged ones, might be survived with enough speed. You would have to move really fast through the Cauchy horizon to avoid being pulled apart by extreme gravity and/or crushed by whatever random objects the singularity is emitting at the moment. So yeah, that sounds like some pretty extreme love, and I'm sure he did his research so he knows what he's talking about. As far as cheating death, there's been only one reported case of love THAT tough, and I would be pretty proud if Tobias emulated that individual. He was pretty great. I guess, instead of thinking that they need a therapist, maybe Marc and I need to pat ourselves on the back. If OUR tough love is enabling this kind of tough love in our boys, maybe we are rocking this parenting thing. And if you disagree with me? Tough. Love you anyway.