me: "Oh boy! Today I get to change from our cold weather pillowcases to our warm weather pillowcases!"
(At times like this, I wish I could find a gif from the Simpson's vacation episode, where Lisa says, "Yeah, it's going to be really fun for you changing a different set of sheets" and Marge replies, "You're joking -- but it is!")
Most of my childhood, during which we were both very poor and moved around a lot, was pretty minimalist. I literally had no idea of what a mattress pad was until I met my husband when I was 21. We didn't even have changes of sheets, much less seasonal ones.
Something I've learned slowly over the last 10-15 years is how to adjust my environment. In the place we lived before our current home, my husband would sometimes come home to find me almost passed out from the heat. I had no idea how to deal on hot days.
Our current home is much, much hotter. After a lifetime spent living in virtual caves, I wanted a lot of sunlight, and I got it. But I've learned what to do. At certain times of day, you open this window or close that one. You open and close curtains. You change clothes. You turn on a fan or take a cool shower.
I think it's partially that this is the longest time I've ever lived in one place -- our previous home together being the second longest -- and so I've gotten a sense of continuity that I never had before. "This is what happens in Spring. This is what happens in Fall." And I have money to buy things now -- jackets for when it's cool, jackets for when it's cold, flannel sheets -- and places to store them.
But I think it's also that I'm easier with transitions. Not just the more obvious ones like seasons of the year, but the times of day. I take the time now to think about the weather. It doesn't bother me any more to change clothes or add or subtract them.
I might not even notice all this stuff if it weren't for my resident mini-me. (Who is now more like a maxi-me.) I hope he'll get here someday too.