First, we are OK. I was making lunch for the kids, when this morning's earthquake hit. It was a strong, violent shake and I knew what it was immediately. I dashed out the back door, yelling for Jude who was playing near the pool. My sitter who was helping me unpack, started yelling:

"THE TWINS!"

I ran back inside. I could see the trees outside shaking wildly. The chandelier in the dining room was swinging. I grabbed one twin, my sitter grabbed the other and I yelled for my three older kids to get out, get out, get out!

They all came charging down the stairs (yes, I know this isn't the safest thing), but we were outside in a few seconds and then it finally stopped.

Being a native Californian, I've been through lots of earthquakes (most notably, the '94 Northridge quake), but somehow you never get used to it. Our phone isn't connected yet, and my cell phone wasn't working after the quake. I couldn't call Matt.

We spread blankets on the front lawn and ate lunch out there, waiting for the aftershocks to subside.

Nothing was broken and no-one was hurt. About an hour later, a text message from Matt came through: "Are u ok?"

It's been a crazy, crazy week. We moved into the new house yesterday and today we began the daunting task of unpacking. The earthquake just kicked me into high gear. I'm bracing for more aftershocks and keeping the twins near me at all times.

I know you're not supposed to freak out and run around during an earthquake. I can't help it. Ever since I was a kid, my primal instinct has been to get outside. I try to duck and cover, but that only makes it feel longer and longer. Time slows when an earthquake hits and seconds feel like hours.

I guess this was my official welcome to the new neighborhood!