After daughter has pooped in her pants for 2 1/2 weeks straight, cut off her own bangs all the way up to the scalp (I am of the opinion that this is not normal for a 8-year old and also an act of defiance) and tore apart one pane of the vertical blinds in her room in 4 places, I have demanded that husband take his head out of the sand and open his eyes. He is not completely on board with me and supportive about daughter's behavior. He drives me crazy when he says that "daughter does not act like that with him". Well, hello????, I am with her most of the time. I am the disciplinarian and the one that requests her to clean her room, do her homework, etc. -- things she hates to do. On the rare occasion when he is actually home, he gets to do all the fun stuff like take her to swimming lessons, go to a hockey game, etc. He has seen some of her outbursts, but not full-blown meltdowns like I do. Anyhow, today she is going for a visit to her Developmental Pediatrician. Since I was at my wits end about her pooping in her pants when we had people over our house to celebrate her birthday and she lied about it (my friend smelled it and it was humiliating), I told husband that this is the last straw. He had to agree to daughter seeing a child psychiatrist. He gave in to a consult, but he is not giving in to medication -- yet. We have an appointment. next week and hope to be on the way to diagnosing her officially. At the suggestion of her regular pediatrician who I called when I was in desperation last week, he suggested we take her to a pediatric gastroenterologist to rule out there is nothing physically impacting her bowels. (I think it is all behavior and not physical but leave that up to a professional to decide.) We have an appointment. a week from Tuesday. Wish me luck. I need it and am totally wiped out and sad. I can't stop crying and feeling sorry for myself. I wish I had the total understanding of my husband and he was in this with me. To me, it feels as if he is teamed up with daughter and I am the one that am nuts. Sometimes, I just want to crawl under a rock.