To All the Woman Who Aren’t Extra:

My mom invented extra. She was the personification of a Pinterest board back in the eighties and nineties when all people had to go by trends was Southern Living and department store Christmas catalogs.

We had themed parties, fake snow on Christmas, and matching outfits for all occasions. As a schoolteacher, she basically came up with her own dress-up days for us and gladly puffy-painted the shirts to coordinate.

Me, not so much.

I’m often in awe of what some of my friends pull off at parties and the costumes they come up with for their kids. Going to one of their events is like a mini-Disney vacay for me. I get lost in their small world of party décor and themed snacks. They decorate their homes for holidays I don’t even celebrate (ahem, Valentine’s Day and Halloween). They do fun things with Elf on the Shelf and rock it as room moms.

*If* my kids have a party, I skimp on decorations to spend more on food. I do love decorating my home, but only have two themes—Christmas and the rest of the year. I despise dress-up days and don’t even own a vinyl press (gasp). I told my kids they’re special because Santa watches them himself as an excuse to not do an elf. And I always vote to Venmo the room mom over bringing something myself.

Sometimes not being extra can make you feel like you’re less of a woman. Especially in the South.

Whether it’s not always having the newest shoe styles, passing on fake eyelashes, or sending your kid to school without a full disguise on some obscure DARE week dress-up day, it’s easy to feel guilty. Like you’re less of a woman or mom—or both—for not having that extra quality.

But for all I don’t do, I do a lot.

I check my kids’ folders and stay on top of their grades. I read the Bible with them and cook dinner. I go to their sporting events and practice with them. I pack their lunch when they don’t like what’s on the school menu. I sneak a warm hoodie in my son’s backpack when he refuses to wear pants in forty-degree temperatures. And, on occasion, I will buy a shirt made by one of my extra friends off Facebook.

Not being extra doesn’t make you less of anything. It just makes you not extra of anything. And that’s cool.

Extra family and friends creating small worlds of wonder need us practical people to keep them grounded in the real world sometimes. To tell them when they have more Christmas earrings than any one person could wear in a month or console them when UPS delivers their daughter’s Amazon Prime tutu after the dress-up day. And most importantly, it’s people like us who will buy their used Stomp Out Drugs dinosaur shirts for a dollar when they clean out their craft rooms for more supplies.

Stay golden, Southern Belles. There’s extra space for us Practical Princesses too!