Julia Roberts is one of the rare celebrities who lives a relatively ordinary existence. She has been married to cinematographer Daniel Moder for 19 years, and the couple appears to be extremely happy.
he couple has three children: twins Phinnaeus and Hazel, both 16, and a son, Henry, 14.
Both Roberts and Moder try to keep their children out of the public eye, which is why we rarely see them attending public events or sharing images on social media.
While Penn’s children played characters in the film, Hazel did not, but she attended the ceremony to support her father’s efforts.
Hazel’s amazing beauty drew everyone’s attention.
While some claim she inherited her mother’s nose, many believe she’s a striking likeness of her handsome father, so it’s no surprise she’s attractive herself. Hazel has blonde hair and blue eyes.
She was dressed in a soft yellow long lace gown and black Mary Jane heels. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her make-up was modest. A true woman!
Moder was clearly proud of his girl and spent the entire evening by her side.
Whether Hazel or her siblings are interested in pursuing professions in the film industry is unknown because their parents rarely speak about their children and prefer to keep them out of the spotlight, which is understandable given Roberts’ grounded nature.
Despite her great income, which is reported to be approximately $250 million, she has never acted like a diva and has always maintained a humble demeanor.
In 2016, Hazel and her brothers played minor roles in Robert’s film Mother’s Day.
In 2018, Roberts told Harper’s Bazaar about her children:
“I don’t think they’ll ever understand (my fame). I think I told you once that when they started figuring it out, they were like, ‘You’re famous?’”
“And I said, ‘I think a lot of people might have seen the movie that I’m in or might know who I am.’”
She then discussed the issues that today’s youngsters experience, saying, “It’s different than when I might have said to my mom, ‘Mom, you don’t know what it’s like to be a teenager today,’ even though she probably did.”
Danny and I have no idea what it’s like to be an adolescent today. When my children ask me questions, I just tell them, ‘I’m going to say no and check into it because I have no idea what we’re talking about.’”
MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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