If your kids seem to enjoy breakfast more than any other meal of the day, why not start their birthday off with a bang? No, you don't have to send out the Evite for 8:00 a.m., or go to the pony rides at the crack of dawn. There are much easier ways to celebrate a kid birthday party in the early morning hours.

In fact, some fantastic advantages to throwing a breakfast birthday party include, but are not limited to: Easy clean-up, small crowds, lots of inexpressive options, and everyone will want to nap in the afternoon.

Here are five ways you can throw your toddler a fantastic breakfast birthday party:

My two-year-old is about to be a three-year-old in a matter of weeks. In addition to wondering how that many years passed without me knowing it, I'm pondering the toddler birthday gift. I have yet to ask him what it is he wants for his birthday, and quite frankly, I'm thinking about not asking him at all.

Not unlike Halloween, when you can dress them up however they like, you can really pick and choose a toddler birthday present up until around age five. Sometimes four if you have an avid television watcher (read: commercial watcher). So why should I give up that power just yet?

Ooh, did you hear about Harlow Madden's faaaabulous 4th birthday party? Nicole Richie and Joel Madden threw a big Toy Story-themed celebration. Harlow and 35 of her besties got to play with Buzz, Woody, and Jessie while noshing on pizza and sugar-free birthday cake. And did I mention the part where Harlow cries?

Oh dear, the poor thing! One onlooker told Us Weekly, "Harlow started crying when everyone sang happy birthday and Joel said she was crying tears of joy." Okay ... I've seen this crying at your own birthday party scene before, and I'm pretty sure those were not tears of joy. I think maybe instead Harlow was totally overwhelmed by her own party.

Ready to PartyIf you've never been to an over-the-top birthday party, you just might be missing out. You know the ones: Local celebrity musicians are being paid an exorbitant sum to entertain 4-year-olds, the cake is more impressive than the one at your wedding, the goodie bags cost about the same as the present you brought.

While I certainly enjoy attending these bashes, it's not something I ever thought I'd get on board with for my own kids. In fact, there's no way in hell I would spend more money, time, or effort on a kid party than I would on a weekend getaway. Yet, here I am looking down the barrel of a crazy birthday party situation, and shrugging as I give in to the madness.

How did this happen, exactly?

It seems like such a silly thing: a birthday party for a child. I've thrown them before and I'll throw them again.

My daughter's, though, it's special. What kills me about it is that I've never been able to properly throw her a party.

Let me back up a bit.

When I was a kid, I remember being hideously disappointed each year as my friends lugged in plate after plate of sugary goodness to share with the class, each of us stopping our work to imbibe that delicious Orange Drink and sing "Happy Birthday" to the lucky kid, before we dove head-first into the cuppity-cakes the kid brought.

I wasn't jealous over the goodies: no. I wasn't even jealous because my classmates weren't warbling to me. I was jealous because I'd been blessed with a birthday that fell squarely into the hot, sweaty asscrack of summer: July.

You know what happens when you have a summer birthday? NOTHING.

Here are the top reasons having a summer birthday sucks for kids.

Chuck E. Cheese is simultaneously the stuff of kids' dreams and parents' nightmares. From the loud, blaring lights and questionable crowds (there are brawls there, people) to those human hamster trails that contain things I don't want to think about, it's one big germ-ridden, overstimulating headache that I tolerate only when I absolutely must. A recent story gives me even more ammunition as to why we should avoid the place like the plague ... or perhaps makes me actually feel a certain fondness for the big dopey mouse -- I'm not sure which yet.

The article in The Consumerist shows a picture of Chuck E. with a 4-year-old boy named Corbin Anderson. It appears pretty clearly that the mouse is flipping the bird at someone.

Unlike my own early childhood, living with a single mom on a teacher's salary, I didn't think my kids would notice the differences in the way people live in our middle-class world. At least not until my daughter hit that magic, "I need those $100 jeans" age and I had to disappoint her, and probably embarrass her, in front of her friends. Sure we live in an urban environment and see people holding up signs asking for help, and my daughter volunteers by making sandwiches for homeless people in need, but looking up the economic ladder was not something I was prepared for at this young age.

Yet, it's happening. My daughter goes over to people's houses and comes home wondering why we don't have a swimming pool, or a second story on our house. Which is somehow much more complicated than explaining why we drive a car instead of carrying our belongings with us in a shopping cart.