The honeymoon is over.

This past week I felt the first pangs of absolute exhaustion. That tiredness where your bones feel weak and it's incredibly hard work to keep your face from looking like one of those wrinkly, droopy faced dogs. Early mornings, long days. Confusion with schedules, misplaced and much needed items lost in the chaos of our new office [affectionately referred to as "The Natch"], late nights coupled with early mornings, trekking up the mountain and back down again with excited children glued to your sides- it all begins to wear on one's spirit come Thursday.

I started to think about being a summer camp counselor and adding the responsibility of being with the kids twenty-four-seven to this full plate. Surviving that summer was nothing short of a miracle. That's probably why it was such a formative experience in my life, because it was utterly exhausting and absolutely impossible to carry out in my own strength.

And so, the honeymoon is over. This job isn't all chocolate cupcakes and daisies. It's stinking hard some days.

The funny thing is though, I probably had the most fun I've had yet with this group of kids. I felt like I was the most prepared for my classes, and actually had a ton of fun teaching. The kids remembered stuff at the end of class, which is a big deal for a fifth grader when they are out in the woods and there are all kinds of rocks to throw and leaves to kick around. I even got to talk to them about why I wake up in the morning, about church and family and "how old God is" after questions starting coming from the mouths of these little squirts from Napa Valley.

Now, I've never been married. So I don't have actual, real data on this one, but I'm just going to extrapolate. Couples always say "the honeymoon is over" when things aren't all romantic and googely eyed anymore. The honeymoon is bliss, and once that state of euphoria leaves, you receive in its place- a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the closet door that always gets left open, and spaghetti that tastes nothing like the way you've always made it.

Coming out of this week, the rose-coloured hue of being a Naturalist was taken away while picking up trash in the rain, spilling plaster of paris on the tables, walking around with a scale and clip-board, running to and fro, and wrestling ladders. To my pleasant surprise however, things still looked pretty good even without the pinkish tint. In fact, it was really quite beautiful. So this whole end to the honeymoon thing might not be so bad after all. Sure, it's a bit more difficult and the colors aren't quite as vibrant. But it's real. The real McCoy, the real deal. And sometimes reality can be a little brutal, rugged and fierce, but that just adds to it's beauty.

Rumor has it that next week is going to be another big one. This work week will start without romantic excitement, but it will start with excitement none-the-less. Excitement to get my hands dirty, to dig in my heels, call out for help, and dive in head first. Because this new spaghetti isn't too bad, and leaving the closet door open just saves me a step in the morning, and because perhaps the end of the honeymoon is actually a good thing because you get to start tromping through real life with someone getting muddy right along side you.