Jack turns two
Tomorrow is Jack's second birthday. I'm pretty sure he doesn't understand the concept of birthdays, but I assure you that he is very familiar with birthday cake. I'm sure this makes Uncle Jason very proud. I know better than to promise to post pictures of the party, but I do promise that I will take some, and I promise that they will be cute.

An open plea to Jason to please fix the picture on your right
C'mon bro, I know you have other photos of me to put on here. This one's five years old, I know it's funny but it is also embarrassing. Ok it's not that embarrassing. I would have to have some amount of shame to be embarrassed by something. Did I ever tell you that when I worked for Southwest Airlines I wore the bunny suit on Halloween and loaded passengers on flights all day while wearing it? It was pretty funny, and chicks dig bunnies, they have a non-threatening quality that they like. But that's not the point. I noticed that you have re-linked to my site, and after the Blogger+Google party Sarah Hatter even linked to my pathetic excuse for a site. So with all the new traffic, I'm hoping to get some of those emails like you've been getting that say, "You're hot." or " "You're not the worst looking guy out there." or even, "If you had a decent haircut and lost ten pounds you might be ok enough to go on a date with my ugly friend." Not that I'm planning on dating anyone's friend, unless that friend is my wife, who is incidentally not even remotely ugly, quite the contrary actually. Anyway, I know you're busy eating kick ass Google food and commuting and all, but a new(er) picture would be appreciated.
Thanks,
Taylor

The littlest surfer gets some gear
In a perfect follow-up to my last post, we bought Jack his first wetsuit last week. He picked out a Superman looking little blue springsuit with red sleeves and insisted that he hold it while we were in the store. The best part was him saying, "Jack, 'urfing!" and making a little hand surfing gesture with a wave noise. I almost cried.

My truckload of cash was hijacked by terrorists, and a surfer is born
In a pretty standard corporate move, my company has slashed the commision pay structure in such a fashion that we now have to work twice as hard to make the same money. Sweet. There's been considerable belt tightening in the Shellen house to accomodate the cash flow slow down (or stop). In other (important) news, we now have two beautiful little tax deductions riding around in the back of our Volvo wagon. Luke Ronald Shellen was born on September 10th, 2002 and weighed in at a healthy 7 pounds, eleven ounces. Theresa performed like a champ and once again validated her doctors comment, "Some people are just really good at having babies." Jack is a great big brother and told Luke earlier this week, "I wuv you Ookie." We need to enjoy their friendship while it lasts. If Jack and Luke are anything like Jason and I they will be mortal enemies for the next 16 years or so before remembering that they are best friends. Despite the lack of sleep, I am enjoying fatherhood even more than I thought I would. There is really nothing like coming home at night and seeing two little people that you created, who are thrilled to see you, and want nothing more than for you to get on the floor and play with them. Just when I was starting to think that I had grow up, I'm finding out that I'm still a kid. I really can't wait for the day when I can throw the boards on the roof and the boys in the car and go paddle out together at a (gentle) point break. Theresa has expressed some concern about the young age that I'd like to get the boys in the water, but I think it's really important that they start young. I harbor a mild bit of resentment that my Dad lived and surfed in Waikiki in the Sixties and never taught me to surf. I won't make my kids wait until they are 14 to surf for the first time like I did. It's just not an option.