Eaton Hamilton

the problem with being trans is cis people. The problem with being queer is straight people. The problem with being disabled is abled people. The problem with being Black is white people. In other words, prejudice.

Tag: babies

This interview seems like a very long time ago

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It seems like a very long time ago that I flew to Montreal for Blue Metropolis and spoke to Anne Malcolm. A lot of things have changed since that day, and I would have been frightened of some had I known about them in advance. To know that I wouldn’t have been well enough to work in my postage stamp garden all spring would have alarmed me. To know that I would abjure my rights in court would have terrified me (it still does terrify me). The prospect of more cardiac surgery (so many in the last 5 years) would have made me dizzy with aversion. But other things I would have celebrated–the simplicity and cheer of flowers and sunshine, new or deepening friendships, the end of lawyers, the arrival of “Love Will Burst into a Thousand Shapes,” winning Lit Pop 2015, my upcoming novel “Weekend” (spring 2016). But most especially, the arrival of my wee granddaughter and the celebration of my renewed relationship with my eldest. Yes, where there was no person, now there is a person. Hurrah!

Interview with Anne Malcom at Blue Metropolis 2014

The Surprisingness of Babyland


photo: Jane Eaton Hamilton 2015

A grand-babe joined the family in 2015 (6 months as I write). I especially love my regained joy of being up close to someone developing capabilities, interests and language–especially language. I delighted in this with my own children and getting another chance to observe it is luck past measure. Watching the baby scrutinize my mouth to see how shapes are formed makes me wish I was more fluent in foreign languages; watching her mimic them is intriguing. I have a friend whose family used German, English and French interchangeably when she was young; she soaked it up; it was years before she realized they were separate languages. G-baby could be the same with a multi-lingual mom. She’s 6 months and she’s said intelligible things for quite a while now–she’s conquered “Mommy” and “Amma” for the long term, and remains rivetted by sound (and, incidentally, texture). I adore observing her setting goals–language goals and movement goals the most visible–and seeing her work concertedly to realize them.

The other almost accidental by-product of the g-baby’s birth is that I have gotten to spend winsome, celebratory time with my daughter. Getting to see her expand into her new role and love is a dream I didn’t know I had. I have been proud at her for many things in our 37 years together, but never moreso than watching her ace this hardest job going.

This time around, I barely saw my step g-baby, but we got some time where she pretty much pulverized me with tickles and swimming play before she flew off to the east. Razor-sharp, strong, talented girl who owns a big chunk of my heart.

Just by way of throwing something literary in here:

I had a book-baby in 2014 (Love Will Burst into a Thousand Shapes), now my daughter has brought forth this astonishing human book in 2015 (g-baby will slowly fill its blank pages), and, upcoming in 2016, my novel Weekend.

Congratulations, It’s a Six Pound Eight Ounce Novel

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