Jay Trenary v. Mat Thomas

Let’s cut right to the chase: a father is suing the court-appointed lawyer who was supposed to protect his kids during a child abuse case — not because the lawyer did nothing, but because he allegedly did the wrong thing, and now the dad says his family is out tens of thousands of dollars and emotionally scarred to boot. Welcome to CrazyCivilCourt, where the stakes are real, the drama is petty, and the legal fireworks come not from murder weapons or corporate fraud, but from a custody battle gone sideways and a lawyer caught in what may or may not have been a conflict of interest shaped like a tornado.

Meet Jay Trenary, a dad from Oklahoma County who, in 2023, found himself at the center of a nightmare most parents pray never happens: the state swooping in, alleging his kids were abused — not by him, but by their mother. His twin sons, M.Y. and E.Y., born in 2013, were caught in the crossfire. The case was filed in Lincoln County as a “deprived child action,” which in legalese means the state believed those kids weren’t safe where they were. And in this case, the finger pointed squarely at Mom. Jay, on the other hand, was trying to be the safe harbor — the dad fighting to keep his boys out of harm’s way and back in his care. Enter Mat Thomas, a Pottawatomie County attorney who didn’t volunteer for this gig — he was appointed by the court to represent the twins. His job? Not to take sides between Mom and Dad, but to be the voice of the children. In theory, he was supposed to be their legal guardian angel — independent, objective, and laser-focused on what would best protect M.Y. and E.Y.

But here’s where things allegedly went off the rails. According to Jay Trenary’s lawsuit, Thomas wasn’t the impartial advocate the boys needed. Instead, he allegedly let conflicts of interest — the nature of which remain deliciously vague in the filing — override his duty to the kids. Jay claims Thomas failed to investigate the facts properly, didn’t know the relevant laws (a concerning thing for a lawyer, by the way), and generally acted in a way that didn’t serve the boys’ best interests. And get this — during the entire case, Jay wasn’t even allowed to talk to his own sons about what was happening. One wrong word, one emotional conversation, and visitation could’ve been yanked. Imagine being a father, watching your kids go through trauma, knowing they’re hurting, and being legally muzzled from comforting them. That’s the kind of Kafkaesque legal purgatory we’re dealing with here.

Now, let’s be clear: Jay won. The state’s case against him collapsed when the judge sustained his demurrer — a fancy legal term meaning “your evidence is so weak, we’re not even going to let this go to trial.” On March 7, 2024, Jay was awarded sole custody. So if he won, why’s he suing? Because, as any good civil litigant knows, winning custody doesn’t mean you didn’t get screwed along the way. Jay’s argument is that the process itself — the months of legal limbo, the emotional toll, the financial drain — was made longer, harder, and more expensive because of Thomas’s alleged incompetence. He claims the lawyer’s malpractice “altered the course of the case” and “negatively impacted the outcome of hearings.” In other words, even though Jay ultimately got his sons back, he says he shouldn’t have had to fight so hard — or spend so much — to get what should’ve been obvious from the start: that he was the safe parent.

So what’s he suing for? A cool $75,000 — plus punitive damages, court costs, attorney’s fees (ironic, since he’s representing himself now), and interest. Is $75,000 a lot for this kind of case? Well, let’s do the math. Legal fees for a custody battle, especially one involving state intervention, can skyrocket into five figures fast. Add in therapy for the kids, lost wages from missed work, travel expenses, and the emotional toll — yeah, $75k starts to look less like greed and more like a shot at breaking even. And then there’s the punitive damages angle — which Jay is demanding because he says Thomas didn’t just make a few rookie mistakes, but acted with “willful, intentional, and reckless” disregard for his ethical duties. That’s a strong claim. Punitive damages aren’t meant to compensate — they’re meant to punish. They’re the legal system’s way of saying, “We don’t care if you pay the victim back — we want you to hurt so you don’t do this again.” It’s the civil court equivalent of a slap on the wrist… with a two-by-four.

Now, here’s the twist: Jay is representing himself. Pro se, as the filing says. That means no fancy law firm, no army of paralegals — just a dad with a printer, a notary stamp, and a whole lot of rage. And while you gotta respect the hustle, let’s be real: suing a lawyer for malpractice while doing your own legal work is like performing open-heart surgery on yourself because you read a Wikipedia article. It’s bold. It’s risky. And if it goes sideways, it could backfire spectacularly. But also? Kind of badass.

So what’s our take? The most absurd part isn’t that a dad is suing a lawyer — that happens. It’s not even that the lawyer was court-appointed and allegedly failed the kids he was supposed to protect — tragic, but not unheard of. No, the real absurdity is the system itself. A father can’t talk to his own kids during a custody case. A lawyer gets appointed to “represent” children but somehow ends up acting in a way that drags the process out, hurts the family, and possibly benefits… who, exactly? The state? The mother’s legal team? Himself? We don’t know — and that’s the problem. The filing drops the bomb of a “conflict of interest” but doesn’t say what it is. Was Thomas friendly with the prosecutor? Did he have prior ties to the mother’s attorney? Was he just lazy? Overworked? We’re being fed the legal equivalent of a cliffhanger.

And honestly? We’re rooting for Jay. Not because we know he’s right — again, these are allegations — but because he’s the one who had to sit in that courtroom, silenced, watching his life unravel while a man in a suit who was supposed to protect his kids maybe didn’t. If Thomas truly failed in his duty, then this lawsuit isn’t just about money — it’s about accountability. And if he didn’t? Well, then Jay’s about to learn a very expensive lesson about why lawyers go to law school and dads maybe shouldn’t sue them without one.

Either way, popcorn’s ready. This one’s going to trial by jury. And in the circus of civil court, that’s when the real show begins.