Occasionally I'll come across something that's just annoying, but for the most part it's irrelevant to me.

Having survived her 10th London winter (she got through January by assigning it "international month," and amusing Moses and his big sister, Apple, 9, with a visiting Italian chef, Japanese anime screenings, and hand-rolled-sushi lessons, no less), Paltrow admits that her dreams of relocating the family to their recently acquired residence in Brentwood, California, are becoming ever more urgent.

When I was pregnant, I couldn't wear fragrance. I couldn't smell anything. I couldn't smell flowers, I was very sensitive to everything. I could smell orange juice from across the room and I remember thinking, 'I will throw up.'

Invest in what's real. Clean as you go. Drink while you cook. Make it fun. It doesn't have to be complicated. It will be what it will be.

[When] you're dying laughing because your three-year-old made a fart joke, it doesn't matter what else is going on. That's real happiness.

If I have my daughter in the car and they are making me nervous, I'll do whatever I have to do. I keep a whole log. I take pictures of their cars, write down license plate numbers, everything. If they do it again, I can go to the police. I know my rights and, believe me, I will have them arrested. I will stop at nothing.

In Britain, they have a lot of laws to protect you, and we enforce them very strongly so that our children can stay private figures, and the British press leave us alone, which is great. It means we can go on the Tube into the centre of London because it's quicker and more fun for the kids. We can do normal things.