Tomorrow is much easier to understand than yesterday. The parenting consultant finally agreed with me that O should stay at the school where he just completed kindergarten, starting first grade in the fall via distance learning from the daycare he’s been at since he was two-and-a-half. He’ll get the consistency and comfort of negotiating a new class with old friends and caregivers. He’ll also continue to split his time between my house and his mom’s from now on, providing as much security and stability as is possible under the circumstances.

That this “new” status quo is exactly what I proposed to my ex-wife nearly a year ago, long before a single attorney entered the picture much less four, is both ironic and pathetic. There was no reason for any of this to have happened. I gave my ex and Boyfriend all the space they asked for despite zero effort to earn my trust, despite insults and injuries that would prompt any reasonable Daddy to turn his radar to eleven. It’s still there until further notice, but I am on my own when it comes to defending my son’s safety and well being. The family court system has proven woefully unequal to that important task. Don’t get me started on the whole parenting consultant process and how it failed to add any meaningful guardrails to my son’s life as promised.

The last nail in the coffin comes September 14 when I face down my accusers in court. The truth will finally have its day. I’m convinced this latest outrage will backfire in spectacular fashion. I have a new lawyer who is much more in tune with my legal needs. He’s almost as offended as I am by all this nonsense. I hope the judge feels the same way. He’s a former family law attorney, public defender and now a chief justice. Taking apart the harassment complaint point-by-lying-point, using their own inconsistent and contradictory words against them, should be enough for a dismissal. It will also provide an official record of reality that doesn’t currently exist. This is unlikely to be the end of the vendetta, but my war chest continues to fill with ammo each time they attack.

The many tomorrows to follow this hearing will finally be focused on my son and myself. No more anxiety at the rug being yanked from underneath us by bad actors with bad intentions. I will continue to reinforce the firewall between our home and theirs, allowing my boy the space he needs to develop his own coping mechanisms as it relates to his mom and his new roommate. He has a therapist now who he really likes, so I’m confident she’ll help him build those skills without my help. There’s literally nothing I can do right now except love him with everything I have and provide him with all the benefits a sane, healthy parent can deliver.

It breaks my heart, but O’s life at his mom’s will be his own challenge to negotiate in the years ahead. I trust he’ll remain up to the task. The kid has already shown amazing resilience. I couldn’t be more proud. All of this came completely out of the Twilight Zone. My son had as much of an expectation as I did that we lived in world where his parents weren’t together, but they were still friends. They still respected each other as humans. They still possessed the modicum of “love” required to raise a kid together outside of a marriage without poison and rancor. Instead, he got Boyfriend and unrelenting parental warfare.

Tomorrow may not change appreciably as it relates to his mom’s house and her unreasonable vendetta against me. He may overhear his roommates reminiscing about my untimely death leading to a “daddy” opening when they think he’s asleep. He may hear all kinds idiocy I’d rather he didn’t but undoubtedly still will. He’s already heard shit he never should have had to hear. I can’t control that from my side of the divide, but I can make sure he never has to worry about any of it when he’s with me.