Talk about being late to the party. I come to find out I was part of a hip, trendy group for years, but only find out now that I have to revoke my unofficial membership card.

The special, exclusive group involves being an aunt. I was reading in the New York Times the other day how the hot demographics for advertisers this holiday season is what they refer to as “PANKs.” That stands for “Professional Aunt; No Kids.”

Marketing executives are apparently anxious to capture the dollars for women who have good jobs, love kids, but have none of their own.

That sure was me for most of my adult life. Until I got married this last summer I was like a lot of women I bet you know. We certainly never planned on not having children. Our lives just sort of turned out that way, much to the dismay of our kid-loving hearts.

And so, yes, I found great joy in doting on my two nephews and a collection of about a dozen godchildren, both official and unofficial. I used to say, for someone who has no kids, I sure do have a lot of kids. Part of my joy was, indeed, spending some hard earned cash on the apples of my eye. But I think the New York Times really misses the boat on this one.

It’s not about the money you spend on a kid. The role of a devoted aunt is so much more than that.

My friend Judy tells me she gives her five nephews and nieces “a consistently safe, loving, wacky and accepting alternative to their parents. They know I’m here for them unconditionally and confidentially.”

Together they have a special goodnight routine, their own Auntie Judy traditions, and, she says with a devious smile, “I’ve taught them some less polite things that their parents really wish I hadn’t.”

In return she says, “I get to peel away my ‘adult filter,’ play, joke, laugh and explore with a renewed sense of wonder.”

My friend, Cori, tells me she also sees herself as the family historian. “I tell stories about their parents and the generations of grandparents that we share. … I am contributing to their story, who they are and where they come from. It is the greatest honor I have been given to be a part of the lives of these dear children.”

Try putting a dollar value on that, Madison Avenue!

When I married this past summer, I not only got a husband, but a daughter as well. It had been just the two of them since her mother passed away five years ago. And so with that simple, “I do,” I became a mom. It truly is the deal of a lifetime. Yet, it also means the end of my PANK status, as I now have a kid of my own.

Now, it’s I who gets to listen to my new daughter wax poetic to her friends about my sister, her new aunt. How fun she is and all the wonderful things they do together. My sister now gets to be the amazing PANK, the co-conspirator in getting a second ear piercing. I’m now the mom who has to consider, “Hmmm, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

To all the PANKS out there, I just want to say you are so much more than an expensive gift at the holidays. You are so much more than a woman who doesn’t have kids of her own. You are special. You are priceless. And I have to admit, I’m just a tad jealous of the role you get to play in our kids’ lives.