Created by and starring Catherine Reitman (daughter of legendary director Ivan Reitman), Workin’ Moms follows four very different women navigating the chaotic intersection of new motherhood and high-pressure careers. The setting is Toronto, but the struggles are universal.
The core idea is simple: what happens when the baby arrives and your life doesn't stop, but instead becomes a dizzying carousel of leaking breasts, sleep deprivation, post-partum depression, office politics, and the desperate attempt to remember who you were before you could recite every Baby Shark lyric?
Season 1 does not waste time on a "honeymoon phase." Episode one drops us directly into the trenches. These women are not celebrating; they are surviving. The show’s genius lies in its refusal to sugarcoat. It takes the topics whispered about in hushed tones in parent groups—postpartum psychosis, the loss of libido, the resentment toward your partner, the crushing guilt of loving your job more than your baby—and screams them from the rooftops. Workin- Moms - Season 1
What makes Workin’ Moms - Season 1 so memorable is its specific, cringe-worthy, and hilarious set pieces. If you’ve seen the show, you remember these scenes viscerally.
The "Downton Abbey" Fantasy: In episode one, Kate and her husband try to rekindle their sex life. The scene cuts between reality (awkward positioning, a crying baby monitor, a discussion about stitches) and a lavish fantasy of them as aristocrats in Downton Abbey, having elegant, effortless sex. It’s a brilliant visual metaphor for the gulf between expectation and reality. Created by and starring Catherine Reitman (daughter of
The Car Masturbation Scene (Anne’s Storyline): After revealing that her libido has vanished, Anne discovers a solution—masturbating in the minivan in a parking lot. It’s absurd, hilarious, and shockingly empowering. It breaks the taboo that mothers are not sexual beings.
The "Mommune" Group: Kate joins a new mom’s group, "The Mommune," led by a smug, gluten-free, organic-everything guru (played perfectly by Mimi Kuzyk). The takedown of sanctimommy culture is vicious and satisfying. When Kate admits she fed her baby formula, the room gasps in horror. Season 1 does not waste time on a "honeymoon phase
The Real Estate Breakdown: Frankie’s mental unraveling in the middle of a shoe store while her baby screams is a gut punch. It transitions from dark comedy to pure tragedy without missing a beat.
Reitman famously wrote the pilot while suffering from her own postpartum depression after the birth of her son. She cast herself despite studio pushback. The show feels autobiographical. The details—like the humiliation of pumping breast milk in a supply closet, or the terror of the first daycare drop-off—are too specific to be invented. They are lived.
