A Christmas miracle

My sister informed me [everyone] via Facebook update that she would not be making it to Christmas with the family this year.  She and my nephew had come down with strep and in an effort to not spread the disease, she and he would not be joining us.  To which, I declare I would rather have strep than have to deal with our mom who would undoubtedly pester me ad naseum about what I have said about her over the past two years.  

My sister and I have had our ups.  And our downs.  Our downs consisting of us living together... I distinctly recall being out late one night (an oddity for me), getting into bed trying to get around 5 hours before I had to be at work.  My bedroom lay between the stairs and the laundry room.  My rule was that laundry could be done until I went to sleep.  She had already had the luxury of a few extra hours to get her stuff done.  And yet, I found myself standing on my bed yelling through a locked door at 2 a.m. while she pounded on it, demanding her laundry.  

Things might have gotten worse later.  Let's just say there was an argument involving a certain pasta-related-cheese-topping.  And shortly after, I managed to get us all out of our lease.  

We didn't talk.  For a while.  Like, she was about to pop pregnant when I declared a truce.  And we never spoke of it again.  Straight up 'let bygones be bygones.'  We have an understanding.  We get it.  On her birthday last week, me, her, her husband and the other girl that lived with us joked about some of the things that happened when we all lived together.  There was absolutely no problem.  Because of 'the understanding.'  

The problem is, my mom LACKS 'the understanding.'  In a major way.  While my sister and I can reminisce about the past and carefully tip-toe over the scary parts, my mom likes to stomp and kick up as much dust as humanly possible.  

So, I was really glad that my mom uninvited herself after she found out her grandson would not be able to make it.  

Personally, I'm just not ready.  Not ready to repeat the screaming/crying fit that ensued when I called her (on my birthday) to tell her I was engaged.  Or the screaming/crying fit that occurred when I asked, nay, begged for assistance with my student loans.  Every time I talk to her about me, she ALWAYS makes it about her.