I am not a shopper by nature and so I surprised myself by spending the first day of the New Year with my family doing exactly that – shopping.  We targeted one store and one store only – the behemoth Swedish giant, Ikea – armed with a long list of things to buy that would organize the mountains of stuff that had taken over my children’s room.  Needless to say, this shopping trip was born out of necessity, not desire.  Returning from an idyllic week in Tahoe where we stayed in a minimalist but pristine condo right by the ski slopes and going back to our cluttered city lives was a rather rude awakening. 

Although we have always rigidly adhered to the "no-toy zone" downstairs in our house – (keeping the public spaces uncluttered and quite presentable), the upstairs “attic” which houses our children is a whole different story.  In the three years that we have lived in our house, the kids have amassed astonishing quantities of junk.  The piles have kept growing and growing, to the point I literally surrendered to the chaos   If they want to live in this mess so be it, I kidded myself.  I can’t constantly nag them to keep everything organized.  That resolution lasted about a week and then, disgusted, I gave in and resumed my fruitless quest to try to impose order in the land of misfit toys.  I definitely felt like that little boy in lederhosen who stuck his pudgy finger in the dam to save the village from  watery destruction.

Getting away from the house over the holidays and being reminded of a simplified existence (surrounded by mountains, snow and no toys) gave me the courage and energy I needed to finally tackle that overwhelming room.  And so, on New Years day, while others invariably languished in front of the T.V. watching sports or maniacally pumped iron at the gym to work off their holiday stuffings, my little family and I (and the dog who wanted the company) hightailed it across the bridge to pick up our organizational ammunition.  Brightly colored practical bins, dividers, hangers and toy boxes were our target.  And we were not alone.

We were one of many, many families who shook off their New Years Eve hangovers, got themselves off the couch and headed for Ikea to dive into the world of Swedish furniture, fixtures and everything in between.  They came from all walks of life, different shapes and sizes, and bought all kinds of startling things.  Some were families like us who were desperately hoping for reinforcements to quell the tsunami of stuff that had engulfed their lives.  Of that group, some were clearly pros at navigating the Ikea system, honing in on the appropriate toy boxes and organizers with startling alacrity and precision.  They were adept at herding their grumpy children past the toy section and ticked off their neatly penned to do lists with confidence and speed.  As we stumbled around dazed and confused reading every label, they were already at the check out counter packing up their goodies and racing gleefully back home in their minivans. 

Along with the hordes of family units, there were a number of older folk shoppers who had popped across the street from the nearby senior housing to pick up some frozen “Swedish meatballs.”  (They looked completely disgusting, by the way).  But by far and away, the biggest contingent of shoppers on this New Years day outing were young, fresh faced couples of all different races and cultures who, on a tight budget, were out to buy stuff for the new household that they were creating together.  They all had smiles on their faces, lightness to their step (that as a tired parent I hadn’t experienced in years) and an excitement about shopping that was infectious.  They would bound around, enthusiastically testing out the couches and beds with their measuring tapes and bottoms, remarking on their colors, fabric and design. They chattered, teased each other and playfully argued about each purchase.  Their energy and giddiness became a sideshow of sorts and both Travis and I found ourselves weighing in on their giddy, lighthearted debates about which swatch suited their home better.   

After a few hours, we came away from our Ikea shopping expedition tired but satisfied with all of our own utilitarian purchases.  Being there on that first day of the year, watching the faces of all those different people was an added bonus to the shopping experience that I hadn’t anticipated.  Their presence reminded us that the first day in January in any year marks a new beginning for all of us.  For some, it means turning over a new leaf (and in our case a new way to organize the kid’s room), for others it’s a new adventure (like sampling Swedish meatballs).  And for others still it’s a new and exciting fresh start.  This single mundane shared experience – of shopping for all things Swedish that will eventually go into our respective homes – was a comforting reminder that life marches on and that it is never too late to shake things up, try something new or do something different.  Ikea can’t quite take all the credit for my new year's revelation – after all, they are just a cheap Swedish furnishings store.  And yet, on this day in particular, I felt that I more than got my money's worth. I suspect that so did every one else.