My sister wrote a facebook note awhile back that captures our family perfectly.  She doesn't blog anymore, so I'm stealing it for a blog post of my own.  
The Behnkes - by Jessica Behnke Kelly

(This picture is not even a year old and it already missing people.  Larry, of course, followed by Adeline and Baby #6 for Adam/April... who is (past) due any minute!)
 
We talk too loud, and too much. We disagree, argue, and agree to  disagree. We do not like to be wrong, and, though we would prefer to be  proven wrong if we are, we WILL fight until there is, in fact, proof. We  can come off as arrogant, long-winded, or just plain annoying. We are  educated and smart (because we've chosen to be), and do not apologize  for being so. Sometimes we can be grumpy, proud, belligerent, or just  have too much to drink and say things that are probably better left  unsaid.
Yet, we tell you the truth. You are welcome in our homes  at any hour, under any circumstance, where you will be fed and given  drink, and even a place to sleep. We will leave your kitchen clean, or  clean up after you in ours. We will watch and care for your children,  clean your refrigerator, listen to your stories until the sun is up  (even if we have to be up in the morning), cook for you, build for you,  sing for you, DJ for you, drive long distances for you, plan for you,  promote for you, preach for you, teach for you, create for you. We will  loan you a car, or give you one if we can. We will keep your secret in  confidence, and we will listen, and advise, and pray with you. We will  give you money with no expectation of repayment. We will pull your car  out of a snow drift, then take you to eat (and drink) and pick up the  tab. We will stock your refrigerator, fix your toilet, or bring you a  smile at your grandfather's funeral or in the midst of your sibling's  divorce. We will volunteer for things that no one else will take on, and  we will invest ourselves into causes we know to be noble and righteous.  We are not oblivious to the fact that we are sinners; rather, we KNOW  we are, and we try to be better. We will plan your entire event, and  spend money we do not have to make it special. We will give time and  energy until we have none left to give. And then, we will give more. We  will pray a novena for you, without your ever knowing. We will put money  in your purse without telling you just because we know you need it. We  will hire you when we could hire someone else. We go to Mass, every  Sunday, where we teach Sunday School, sing in the choir, preach from the  altar, prepare to enter ordained ministry, or care for crying children  in the back, knowing it is our job to bring them and teach them and  raise them to be righteous. We will stay calm when you freak out, listen  when you cry, get angry when you need fire, and bring laughter when  you've lost your smile.
We are a highly functioning dysfunctional  unit. We will fight with each other, pick at each other, gripe at each  other, correct each other, and occasionally drive each other absolutely  crazy. But we are a unit. In the storm, we will rise, with each other.
My  blood, my lifeline... a beautiful story of love, righteousness,  strength, forgiveness... a story that begins with a young couple's  cross-country mission, leads to a VW bus filled with a singing family of  seven, and results in conquering such trials as spina bifida, breast  cancer, a back brace, drug addiction, long-distance relationships, child  illness, adoption, wrecks, alcoholism, an international move, scrutiny,  temptation, child pre-wedlock, hate mail, debt, arrests, divorce,  miscarriage, condemnation, death, Dementia, poverty, eviction,  heartbreak, thyroid cancer, obesity, unemployment.
We are a  family which thrives amidst trials that would break most. We conquer  with grace and strength, led by a brilliant, God-fearing man and an  angelic, pillar of a woman who have touched and changed the lives of  thousands of heartbroken and lost individuals and families, and who have  held ours together with a peace that most could never comprehend. And  we're just doing the best we can, and trying to do better when we slack.  God's grace carries us. And we do our best to invoke His mercy and  compassion and strength and guidance.
Laugh at us. Call us names. Pick on our weaknesses and shortcomings. Doubt us. Slander us. Gossip about us.
We've come through worse.
Your words are hurtful, but, in reality, non-consequential. It is not your judgement we fear, but that of a much higher power.
And  at the end of the day, you will go home to your families, who perhaps  have secrets and grudges and lies and deceit and unforgiveness and  affairs and guilt and longing, and talk about how annoying and  hypocritical we are (and, often times, you'll do the exact thing you've  ridiculed us for doing, but you can get away with it, because your last  name is not ours).
And we will sit together, around the table,  with our glass of wine, talking and laughing, learning and loving,  creating, playing instruments that we've taught ourselves to play,  singing songs we've written or taught ourselves to sing, calling those  who are not present just to laugh and say hello, cooking, eating,  giving, growing. We will love together, and pray together. And no matter  what storm life brings, we will come out of it... together.
Just a'travelin' along, singin' a song, side by side.