OB-GYN; fun for the whole family!!

I know this is something I have bitched about before to my facebook friends, but I thought I might reiterate a bit in case someone missed it.
To whom it may concern:
Being a mother myself, I totally get that you want your husband, your children, your mom, and whomever else involved in your pregnancy, but please. The next time you check in with the receptionist, notice the big sign on your right. What does it say 'for the comfort of our other patients, please make other arrangements for your small children'. Now, either I am old fashioned, thinking that a 2 year old still counts as a young child, or you have no respect for the rest of us sitting in that waiting room for god knows how long. We all know that a trip to the Gyno can take a matter of minutes, or a matter of hours. So why on earth would you choose to bring your kids?! I understand sometimes babysitters fall through, and as moms we can be stuck in dire straights. I get that. This is not what Im talking about, but the moms who bring dad, grandma, and the whole gaggle of kids. Grandma doesnt need to be at every appt. Heck. Dad doesnt need to be at every appt. Dont get me wrong, its an amazing thing to hear that heartbeat week after week, but if your husbands anything like mine, after being at every appt for the first pregnancy, and a few subsequent ultrasounds, the thrill is gone and he could care less wether he was waiting with me in a waiting room having hot wheels driven into his feet by the rowdy kid 3 chairs down or sitting at home with our own kids playing his world of war craft. In fact, I can guarantee he would prefer the latter. But I digress. My point, if you havent got it already, is please leave your kids at home if you have the opportunity to do so. And if you must bring them, keep them under control. I go out of my way to find somewhere for mine to go. I dont want to have to deal with yours throwing cheerios, tearing up magazines, and crashing their toy cars while yelling CRASH!! or being covered in their spit as they make their cars "explode" while you and dad, grandma, or whoever are lost deep in conversation pretending the offender does not belong to you. Common courtesy, people. Come on.