As a child I remember being so excited for Saturdays. Saturday morning my brothers and I would get up extra early and watch all the Saturday cartoons. We watched "Scooby Doo," "The Little Rascals," "Looney Tunes," and "Go Speed Racer."
Saturday seemed like this never ending, forever day, and everything was magical from eating cereal, playing with toys, to using our imaginations.
I didn’t think about all the things I had to do or try to figure out what a friend meant. I didn’t look at the news or worry about how I looked. I was free to laugh and to play, to jump and to dance. My energy was endless.
Then it happened sometime in between third and fourth grade. Things started to matter and the thoughts started coming that prevented being carefree.
I’ve learned today that to be happy, I have to rewind back to those days. Money didn’t matter, having all the right things didn’t matter. You could make treasures out of toilet paper end rolls and American cheese became pizza.
Life was simple and magical, and it can be again. It’s like riding a bike, you never forget it’s still in there you just have to go back to the kid in you.
I remember being in a group therapy and having a kid day. We had to dress as kids and bring in a toy. At first it was funny, but then everyone realized how serious it all became.
Yes, we have to be responsible and be a mom, or dad, or professional. Just remember to play.
Some of my best memories of my childhood in the Bronx were those days in our padded foot pajamas thinking we had forever.