growing up is hard to do

Today my baby brothers had their last first day of high school. I am still partially in shock, and earlier today I wrote half of a ridiculously sappy, nostalgic post which I have now deleted because it was too depressing to finish and because you just wouldn't have wanted to read it.

Due to the age gap between the Trips and me, I've missed essentially their entire high school careers. I was there for the last month or so of their freshman year and the first week or two of their sophomore year, but that aside, I've been in another state for everything. I've missed so many cross country meets and track meets and birthdays. I missed them going to homecoming and prom (something I'm sure they are grateful for, because we all know I would be that squealy, embarrassing older sister in those situations). It kind of feels like I missed watching them grow up.

And now that I feel myself flirting with the line between reflective and gushy, let's look at some pictures.

This is a picture of the boys on my last first day of school, circa 2010. (They were going into 8th grade.)

Note the tininess and general adorableness.

And here they are today. 

Looking at this picture, I have to force myself to come to terms with the fact that they're not little boys anymore. I've long accepted their gargantuan status and the fact that there will never be a time in which my tan will ever come remotely close to theirs (I stay pale year round), but the fact that they're growing into men is harder to stomach. Come May, they'll have high school diplomas in hand and will be preparing to go to college. At that point I'll have a college diploma and will be either frantically searching for a job or starting a brand new one (at least that's the plan for now).

I don't know which is more terrifying.