I walked away from my computer this morning thinking about Nancy’s post on structure and the many comments that followed.

A long time ago I was the mother to an only child and while we were both very young and essentially carefree, we still ate at the kitchen table; put our dirty clothes in the laundry basket, kept up regular routines and she knew that she could always depend on me.

The next thirty-eight children moved in without any sense of ever being able to either trust an adult, to depend on one to have their needs met, or even have a single clue as to what tomorrow would bring.

My kids arrived here wide-eyed, angry, shaking with emotions, practically feral in their manners, and emotionally demanding of me to do what I said I’d do. They watched me so closely, trying to catch me behave in a contradictory manner, and thus fulfill their negative world view.

I sat one sibling group down, all squashed together on the long sofa, and told them that this was it. The last family, the final house, and no one’s moving. “I know y’all don’t believe me, give me a chance to prove it to you.”

They desperately wanted to believe me and they all tested me in many ways for many years. The baby of the group, protected by all the others, is pictured here now just a funny, happy-go-lucky son of mine.

“Here’s your rooms, here’s where we eat, here’s what we do, etc” I spieled it all off to all my new kids, knowing they weren’t absorbing anything, Lord have mercy it takes years to get some kids straightened out. Not peeing on the toilet seat, their own feet or the wall, or not wiping one’s mouth off with their shirt, and I’m happy with the accomplishment.

Another group moved in slamming doors, spitting, raging and biting so I skipped the polite introductory lecture, glancing at my other children who were visibly shocked by the immediate fireworks display of snot and spittle. Some kids arrived crying, some were mad, all were scarred and screaming out for a regular routine, a knowledge that all would be right in their world that they could depend on someone.

So maybe structure just equals a regular routine that they can count on, a consistency in life that they’ve never experienced, I see them blossoming under the predictability of our family life. It's not a military discipline but a faithful, steadfast, trusting relationship that they’ve always desired.