Ellie will be staggering her way into Junior Kindergarten this week and has been rehearsing her stagger for several months now.

Why stagger?

The three and four year old eager back-packers, bus route tickets tethered to their built-in belts, spend the summer gearing up for something so new, so beyond the realm of possibility, so intoxicatingly exciting, they can’t begin to describe their hunger for the smell of fresh paint and chalkboard erasers.

I know! Let’s stagger their entry! We’ll eliminate them from the first week meet and greets entirely when all of those important first friendships are formed and major kinks are acknowledged and dealt with. Then we’ll invite them in for just a small taste of what to expect as the youngest, most naive, most vulnerable three and four year olds coming into school, anywhere from fifteen minutes to a couple of hours should be enough time to wet their appetites and have them crying to stay. Then send them home. We’ll have them wait several more days, just long enough for those initial anxieties to resurface before allowing them to re-join the rest of their classmates who have now been enjoying the new school year for a solid two week schedule. Then, by Christmas they should feel welcome, at ease and a part of the unit as a whole.

Stagger—to move or stand unsteadily as if under a great weight. To totter.

Here’s what I’m picturing. Young children staggering into the classroom, clinging to the leg of one or both parents, moving unsteadily as if the weight of the world is on their shoulders. To totter, when coupled with, to teeter, takes on a completely different, whimsical meaning. On its own, to totter has me picturing my child on unbalanced ground about to topple over.

Stagger—to falter or begin to give way, as in an argument or fight. To waver or begin to doubt.

So we’re agreed, staggering just makes good sense and is the best way to encourage children in what is perhaps the greatest leap of independence, embarking on a path towards learning, leadership and skill building.

Funny, when we had car-seat baby, I don’t remember showing her to her older sisters first flashing her at them through the window, then retracting, followed by a five minute visit, break, then finally bringing her into the house.

We opened the door, we set the car-seat down on the family room floor and said, welcome to your new family. The only staggering was me trying to re-acquaint myself with my car-seat arm muscles that had significantly weakened since the last round.