DELILAH DIOR DOMINICA

I have been on hiatus for a while- my dear readers- but I wouldn't allow the year to pass by without one more post for 2011.  I had to start with a story- I am usually the half of Team Atogwe that proposes the most unusual questions, for no particular reason, all day long. These questions include, but are not limited to: "Isn't it so weird that we need sleep? Do you ever think of what life would be like if we lived underwater? If we were spies, do you think we would wear underwear that is actually a weapon? Do you think that if a person rubs their hands together non-stop for three months they would lose all their fingerprints?" And so on. He usually entertains the questions and answers to humor me- but more often than not the answer is just " No ."  The other day while we were laying in bed on a rare off-day, Oj said "Isn't it so weird that we can never see total darkness?" I was shocked, I thought I was still dreaming and somehow talking to

Maybe it was the twenty second flight since September 1st that did this to me, Maybe it's the whirlwind of the Holidays, Maybe its the herniated discs that wont give up after four years,  Maybe it is the home decorating , the five losses in a row, or just plain too much on a plate.  Who knows what is to blame, but I woke up this morning absolutely exhausted and worn down- physically and emotionally. I almost cried at the gym out of sheer confusion as to why I feel like such a mess.I have been talking to my back as if it were a person, like it is responsible for the issues it causes. I have been treating my immune system as if it were a younger sister that did something wrong for allowing me to get sick. Ultimately, however, the thing I cringe at accepting is that I am angry at God because I don't understand or agree with some twists and turns he has presented me with. Unknowingly, when I speak negative ly, fear fully, or doubt fully about my back, I am speaking those thi

Five and a half hours is not enough time to spend with the hubby on Saturday afternoons. Five and a half hours is never enough time to walk through the city on a day to yourself. Five and a half hours never goes by quickly enough on a plane ride from DC to San Francisco. Luckily for me, there is  a Sex and the City Marathon and I tuned in just in time to see Carrie’s Paris wardrobe. I am still tapping my fingers though and checking the clock religiously- as baby B, Kristen and I all woke up congested with sinus pressure that isn’t messin’ around. I don’t know who to blame for the sandpaper throat, but I would do this over a million times if it meant having my sister and sweet baby B around more often. One of the most unbelievable changes in my life thus far has been watching my big sister become a mother. We have both been babysitters and nannies our whole lives, but seeing her hold this gorgeous little blue eyed baby that is her very own, and my very own niece, has changed m

What is this, you say? That a blog lover and grammar/literary lover has misspelled a simple word? In her title , no less?  Don't fret, I have a point. My husband is the very greatest. I have enormous feet . You have heard them here before, but how do these tie together? For the Bye-Week, my bubs and I went to NYC. What is NYC without a stroll in Central Park? And what is a stroll in NYC in the fall without a great pair of boots? (Is it all coming together yet?) I tend to pack very impractically. Being the stylist I am, I always think I have done an incredible job laying out the weeks clothing, only to find seventeen shirts, sixty pairs of underwear, shoes for opposing seasons and a skirt or something. I never get better. For this particular trip, I got a great pair of boots. They had the bones for something wonderful and I was sure they would accompany my feet in countless adventures. Out of pure excitement, I wore them to my hair appointment the day before our trip. Can I pl

A whole lot has happened since the last post, and joyful praise have been raised up from this spirit of mine for the past few days non-stop. Why? Well, because our God is so good. Also, because I have great news. A warning, this will be long , but is a way to answer everyone at once. First off: No, I am not pregnant. For the past few years I have been plagued with stomach and health problems. I have always had a sensitive stomach (I blame my incredible mother...) but 2008-2011 have presented a brand new set of problems that I knew was not just sensitivity. Intense nausea, powerful migraines and lack of appetite have danced across my days unannounced for three years. People wrote it off as me being stressed, under pressure, and even anorexic. (Please, take one look at me...then re-think the anorexia assumption.) I, however, know my body. I absolutely knew something was wrong. On my first date with my husband, actually, I was just finishing a detox prescribed by a nutritionist to

Out of all the strands of DNA that make me who I am, I do not have a single molecule of ‘cool.’  Not one. I don't mean trendy with good hair and impeccable fashion sense; no, that is not the kind of 'cool' I am talking about. I mean I do not have not a single ounce of the 'chill' cool in me. I was never the cool-chick girlfriend and I am not the cool-chick wife. I'm not the girl doing shots with her husband or whipping out the worm (is that cool?) If things do not go as planned, you won't find me sitting back with the "everything will be fine, life throws some curve balls" mentality. I cry. Although I have always craved to wake up as the easy going-version of myself (she has to be in there somewhere ..) I close my eyes and picture doing things that that entail and I just cringe. I have accepted it, I am a little lame. I am a master of drastic - and incorrect assumptions. I am constantly convinced everyone has a gun strapped to their thigh, and a

I am currently in a state of counting down the seconds til' the end of school. That is how I approach every flight and every long class Tuesday: "I'm almost done and then I get to go home and I'm one week closer to being finished with school." This sort of outlook has given me a serious case of anxiety and antsy-ness. My nature has always been one of distraction: when I am sitting in class I'm tapping my fingers thinking I should be at the gym. When I'm working out I'm thinking I should be doing homework. When I sit down for lunch I'm thinking I should be organizing the house...you get the picture. Talking to my husband about this last week, he reminded me that if God wanted me to be doing anything else, I would be doing it. This is just the phase of life I am in, and if he has me here...I better live in the moment to experience what He has me learning. Thinking of these wise words reminded me of last Fall semester... Last year was a very interes

This week was absolutely fantastic. Time has passed so quickly already, and I am almost sad to know that this season will be over before we know it. For the past month I have been praying every day with my family and husband that he will be able to play in the first game. Praying for the full healing of his hamstring and praising God for playing through him this season. After the first game, and first win (!) of the season when we were all laying on the couch watching Entourage, it hit me that the moment had passed. God had answered our prayers and blessed my love and now that is in the past. I think too much, and think far into things, but that has been on my mind. Through this time of back and forth and newness of our marriage and rookie-season as Redskins I want to be sure to soak up every single day. I am sitting on the plane on my ride back to San Francisco for class tomorrow. Which means I survived my first full week of the back-and-forth semester. I was initially concerned abo

I'm going to let you guys in on a little secret. My family would laugh at the fact that i'm calling it a secret, but I'd like to think I've made a big enough transformation to title it however I want. I used to be unfathomably lazy.  Example: I used to share one of the largest bedrooms in the house with my younger sisters Brooke and Becky. When my dad would send us upstairs to clean the room before we were allowed to eat breakfast (clean rooms were a big deal, something that I have taken to my adulthood...) I would lay on the bed with a handful of fruit snacks, delegating jobs. My sisters used to be excited for the game, faces full of joy and eager anticipation. They fell for the "whoever cleans the most, fastest, WINS!!!" They would cheer and trash talk and wait in a runners stance for me to start the notorious 'ten second tidy.'  Like I said, my sisters were running around the huge room picking up laundry, organizing books, scrubbing toothpa

We did it. Only with an incredible God, lots of help from family and friends, and the fact that we found the coffee maker in the first batch of boxes was this whole thing possible. Are you ready for this? In fifteen days, we chose a house, purchased it, and moved in.       ..Believe it.  I lived in a hotel for two weeks, and headed back to St. Louis to finish packing the last of the boxes and direct the movers what goes where. Oj's brother and cousin flew in to meet me there and give me an extra hand, and after a very long 24 hours I was on a plane back to D.C. I twiddled my fingers all day until 6:45pm...the moment we had waited for was finally here: KEYS IN HAND!!! My love and I immediately drove to our new home, happily turning the key and went room to room with giddy smiles on our face. We laid on the empty carpets knowing this is the last time our home would be this way. It is in these moments that I am in awe of just how much God wants us to know His goodness.  We s

My heart still beats fast when I think that this man is mine. I love that we are one, I love that he is my best friend, And I love the way he looks at me. What the Lord has brought together, let no man separate.

Training camp is the most grueling, taxing, and wearing time both mentally and physically on NFL football players. There is something about it that demands so much of these grown men's time and effort that leaves everyone on edge for the full camp. They are required to stay in a hotel, have a room check every night, and spend their every minute of the day devoted to learning. The preparation is certainly worth it- but that doesn't make it any more welcomed. My mom, having experienced 12 training camps with my Papa Bear, warned me of this once Oj and I got serious. She gave me tips and ideas, but the moral of the story was "be prepared to be by yourself, and remember that it's about to stop being about you." Last year, I failed miserably about this. By the end of the two and a half week camp, I was trying to mastermind a way to remove this horrible time from the sport altogether. This year, however, I would like to say that after a day or two, I got the hang of

When the sun starts to rise a nd I open my eyes   You are good, so good.  In the heat of the day wi ith each stone that I lay,  You are good.   With every breath I take in,  I'll tell you I'm grateful agai n.  When the moon climbs high b efore each kiss goodnight,  You are good. So how can I thank You, w hat can I bring?  What can these poor hands  l ay at the feet of a King?   I'll sing You a love song , i t's all that I have- t o tell You I'm grateful  f or holding my life in Your Hands.  When it's dark and it's cold   and I can't feel my soul,  You are good. So good. When the world has gone gray a nd the rain's here to stay, You are still good. So with every breath I take in, I'll tell You I'm grateful again And the storm may swell   Even then it's well and You are good