I was a shy little girl. Growing up, I was often content being alone in my room, making up stories, and acting out all the parts. I became so good at it that, with the door closed, my parents thought I had friends over.

The sense of acting being teamwork was a mentality that I took from school: I studied with wonderful people, and I wanted them to be proud of me.

My parents were both from extremely different backgrounds. My father's Italian, my mother was of Swedish descent. They're both first-generation Americans.

I am the luckiest actress on the planet.

Women come to a time in their lives where they raise their kids, they've had their careers, their kids leave home, and they're deciding, 'Am I recommitting to my relationship? It's been a great ride. Do I want to stay here? Maybe there's something else.'

Rich, smart parents tend to have rich, smart kids - not because it's genetic but because they can create a home environment and sensory stimulation that lower-income kids often don't get.

The great lesson my mother and father gave me was almost invisible. It was a strong sense of being rooted.

I don't mean to sound like a touchy-feely California type here, but I knew that I could finally get over the death of my father only by having kids of my own.