Reading Math Papers with Mom
The next morning after reading the materials science paper with Mom.
I snapped my eyes open and bolted to the living room. Udada-!
But Mom blocked me with a poke to my side.
"Hweht!"
"A-yeon-ah? When you wake up, you have to brush your teeth and wash your face first."
"Tch."
I dashed straight to the bathroom. For reference, if you double my height, you get my IQ. Meaning I'm 80 cm tall.
So, to reach the super-high sink, I absolutely need the kids' step stool. I climbed up onto it and grabbed my cute pink toothbrush from the sink.
I squirted on some strawberry toothpaste, brushed my baby teeth that haven't fully grown in yet, then splashed some water on my face for a quick cat wash.
Chikachika-. Eopueopu-. Great, teeth brushed and face washed—now I can go read the journal, right?
I fetched the academic journal and flopped onto the bed on my stomach to read.
Pangpangpang-.
"Ow…"
Whishwhish-. Seeing me reading the journal so enjoyably must've sparked A-rin's interest, because she started swinging her arms toward me.
"A-rin-ah, wanna read this? This is for grown-ups only. A-rin still too wittle."
At 7 months old, don't even think about snatching my book—go suckle more from Mom instead! Of course, Mom's milk is delicious.
"A-yeon-ah, you're still little too."
Mom called from the kitchen.
"Heehee. At 27 months, I'm all grown up!"
"Wuu."
Since A-rin kept eyeing the book, I had no choice but to shake a rattle with my left hand to play with her while flipping through the journal with my right.
IQ 160 makes this level of advanced multitasking possible. For reference, anything below IQ 160 might cause your head to explode, so don't try this at home. I've clearly warned you, okay?
And then, while reading the materials science journal, my eyes stopped at a certain part.
Sputtering…? What's that mean?
When reading papers outside my field, unfamiliar terms like this pop up all the time.
Usually, I just skim the context before and after to guess the meaning, and it's no big deal.
But this word? No matter how I looked at it—front, side, even upside down—I had no clue.
"Hmm… I weally have no idea."
If it were a newspaper everyone reads, fine—but papers assume expert readers, so the terminology is this unfriendly.
Well, that's why I'm reading it.
There's a reason I focus on papers from other fields that I don't fully understand.
To develop my brain!
Like muscles, the brain grows the more you use it.
A normal baby develops their brain through new stimuli from touching, seeing, and hearing things during growth.
But I'm already loaded with knowledge from my past life.
Most things don't provide fresh stimulation, so it's hard to fully develop my brain.
That's why I force-feed it unknown knowledge to make my brain work overtime.
It's the perfect time anyway—my brain's exploding with growth right now. Can't miss this golden window!
Neuroscience says that by age 3, the density of connections between brain cells (synapses) peaks at its highest in life.
Twice as dense as an adult brain, consuming twice the energy.
Knowledge learned in this period gets etched in, never forgotten. Perfect pitch and multilingualism are prime examples.
Come to think of it, Mozart showed musical talent at 3, and Gauss math skills too, right?
Genius kids are extraordinary from childhood. Actually, that's not quite right.
It's the knowledge injected young that sparks genius later! Geniuses are made in early childhood.
Anyway, for that reason, I'm stacking as much diverse knowledge as possible during this crucial time.
Even after hitting the IQ 160 ceiling, I won't settle—I'm Yoo A-yeon, always pushing further!
"But no matter how I wook, I dunno… A-rin-ah, do you know what sputtering is? Nod-nod if you do, shake-shake if no."
"Ung-."
Shake-shake-.
"Yeah? You don't know either, huh, A-rin-ah?"
I asked just in case she was the reincarnation of a genius engineer, but nope.
No choice—I went to the kitchen, tugged Mom's apron.
"Mommy."
"Yeah? Why call?"
"What's sputtering?"
I showed her the paper I was reading.
"Hmm… Materials engineering? Sorry, first time hearing it for me too."
Mom took off her rubber gloves for a sec, pulled out her phone, and searched.
"A physical vapor deposition method that uses argon plasma in a vacuum chamber to knock target atoms onto a substrate, forming a thin film. Used for thin metal coatings in semiconductors or displays."
"Aha."
"Get it?"
"Yup! Mommy best!"
Problem solved—like a nagging toothache gone. Though I don't even have all my baby teeth yet.
I headed back to the living room and turned the page.
Pang-.
A few days later. I nagged Mom relentlessly.
"Mommy, wead me a book!"
Mom looked a bit puzzled.
"Huh? Picture book? But A-yeon-ah, you said picture books are boring now and stopped reading them."
"Not pictuwe book."
"What book?"
"This one!"
I pulled a book from the study.
Mom looked mildly shocked.
Inventiones mathematicae
"Uh… A-yeon-ah? Why a math journal all of a sudden? It's got tons of English and super tough… No, even without English, the content's brain-melting."
"Tough and brain-melting is the best! And… I wanna heaw Mommy wead it!"
The book I'd grabbed was an international pure math journal Mom subscribed to in grad school.
I've loaded up on other fields' knowledge, so now it's time to activate my core field: math.
Who knows? Stimulating my brain with math might jog my memory of those 3 months of Riemann Hypothesis proof I forgot.
…And one more thing.
It'd be nice if Mom studied with me too.
Mom chose childcare over PhD, but she mentioned wanting to research again someday.
It's been over 3 years since she left academia. She's probably forgotten nitpicky details and lost her edge.
I've gotta stimulate Mom's math brain somehow.
Letting her talent rust is a huge loss for math. To prep for a potential comeback, keep her math brain soft and pliable.
"It's really tough, and even Mommy doesn't know everything."
"Stilw… wanna wead with Mommy…"
Mom looked resigned.
"Okay. Shall we read together?"
"Waaah-!"
Mom sat on the sofa, and I climbed onto her lap.
Mom opened the journal.
"Which one first?"
"This!"
I pointed to a chapter. On triangulation of Riemann surfaces.
"Triangulation of Non-Compact Riemann Surfaces…"
Mom started reading slowly in her familiar English pronunciation, deliberate and clear, like a picture book.
I snuggled close and listened.
When she hit an unknown word, she'd pause, search on her phone, then continue.
She's reading well.
I followed along internally, organizing the content.
Topological structure of Riemann surfaces. Approaches to proving triangulation existence under non-compact conditions.
Pages turned. Then.
"…and the exhaustion function ψ satisfying certain convexity conditions allows us to construct—"
Mom sped through a sentence.
Hold up.
Exhaustion function. Convexity conditions.
This was the core of the paper's logic. Skipping it leaves the rest floating.
Mom probably didn't get it fully.
Makes sense. Even experts don't grasp it on first read.
I tilted my head innocently.
"Mommy."
"Yeah?"
"That just now…"
"…Where?"
"Exhaustion function… What's that?"
"…Exhaustion function…"
Mom reread the sentence.
"Hmm…"
She pulled out her phone to search.
"Exhaustion function… Used for non-compact spaces. As the value increases, it pushes outward… Like slicing the space from inside out."
"Why need that?"
"Um… Hold on."
Mom peered back at the paper.
About 3 minutes of silence. A little "krrng-" leaked from her.
"So… In non-compact spaces, you can't handle the whole thing at once, so the exhaustion function breaks it into compact pieces for stepwise processing."
Mom explained to herself, pondering more.
"…Aha. That's why triangulation isn't done all at once but built up in stages."
Almost a mumble. I hadn't prompted this—she connected it herself.
As expected.
Mom's talent hasn't rusted.
"Mommy, then what's this?"
I pointed to a term.
"Strictly plurisubharmonic…"
Mom furrowed her brow, muttering softly.
"What was this… Saw it in complex analysis…"
She hesitated, then finally grabbed her phone.
Tak-. I pressed her hand down gently.
"Huh, why?"
"Just… Feels like Mommy can do without phone…"
No taking the easy way.
This is definitely from her grad school days. With effort, she'll recall it.
Success strengthens those synapses. Searching? Quick fix, quick forget.
That's how filial I am—considering Mom's brain activation too.
Hearing me, Mom closed her eyes, thinking. Yes, yes. Keep connecting those neurons. Drag those distant memories from oblivion. Every second of thought is an asset that'll pay back.
…About 3 minutes later.
"…Like convexity in complex terms… Extending convex functions from reals to complex."
Then more mumbling.
"Ah! So this condition keeps the function from warping weirdly, stabilizing the structure…"
Bingo.
I smiled warmly at her.
Felt just like mentoring her in my past life.
Heehee. I giggled, kicking my legs.
With the core logic clicked, Mom breezed through the rest.
Finally, at the conclusion.
Mom looked down.
"A-yeon-ah, how was it?"
"Yup. Fun-fun!"
"Not too hard?"
"Harder the more fun…"
Mom chuckled.
"That's exactly what my grad advisor always said."
"Reawwy?"
"Yeah. Dunno why, but you remind me of him. Smart head, pointing out what I miss."
"Hmph. But I'm smawter than that pwrofessor—?"
"Heehee, right. My A-yeon's a genius."
Swoosh. Mom stroked my hair with a smile.