The best thing about starting over again is realizing where to place my priorities. Looking back, I now see that all the little things that I stressed about (not coloring in the lines, not knowing multiplication tables by third grade, and conjugating sentences in junior high) didn’t matter nearly as much as I thought they did. Instead, it was the little things: the snatches of conversation about God, the missionary stories we read together, and the tenderness I showed them and their father throughout the day that played a bigger part in who my older children have turned out to be.