Her dark eyes give away nothing, not even the betrayal she feels from her brother after another barb to his older sister. She only shows that look of defiance that hardens an otherwise soft face.

Given a choice, she would have been an only child, I think; not the one sandwiched between a sister who is nearly five years her senior and twin brothers, two years younger than her.

I can't say that I blame her for being frustrated with her plight. She is, after all, struggling to be heard over the cacophony of her stereo brothers or the higher profile position her sister has by virtue of her age.

Isabella wasn't, however, born to be overlooked and is apt at making her presence known to the rest of the brood. But even a middle child needs a vacation; a time to relax and pretend that she is the only one in the house that matters under the age of, say, 42.

Her sister, being a near teen, has taken flight and journeyed elsewhere for several weeks while her brothers go crabbing with Granny off a pier somewhere on Roanoke Island. Izzy, as we like to call her, could've taken on the crabbing with her testosterone-infused brothers, but she's sly and knows how to get the best of both worlds.

"I think I'll wait and go to Granny's by myself, so we can sew," said the 7-year old.

Yet it's more than that, I suspect. There is a method to her decision here that goes beyond just a chance to sew with her grandmother, alone. Yep, there was a twinkle in those dark eyes when she announced her decision the other day.

"I'll be an only child," Izzy said, followed by a giggle and a mischievous grin that pushed her rosy cheeks up and out like balloons beneath her eyes.

And so she is, at least for two days, an only child. She can have her turn at the computer without much argument over whether or not it's someone else's turn. She can relax on any surface of the house without threat of being pounced upon, save for a puppy and his older canine companion. She can also have lunch with us, her parents, and not argue over where we eat.

And so, in the midst of a nearly empty house, she sits quietly and undisturbed before her doll house. She can have her way, just for a few days, as an only child.

So, yes, she gets the house to herself and her parents, well, she can have us too. But the thing is, even a middle child who is fiery and pushy because she has to be in order to survive three siblings, knows that, although a break is nice, she's got something not everyone can boast.

In her house, beneath the echoes of brothers yelling over one another and shrills of high notes from her sister's flute, there is a firm sense of place that is rooted in the warmth that comes when, although they can be her greatest threat at any moment, her brothers are begging her to stay with them while they go crabbing. Because, you see, she knows that while a break is nice, loneliness is not something she must fear.

She's far too lucky for that, she'll tell you.